Dance against the wind
by Envious sky
Summary: Why should we do what people want us to? Be what they say we must be? Why not dance against the wind and change what we are, never must we stand in line and follow the paths fate set for us. We are who we are, we'll make the choice.
1. unwanted life

**(4,335 words, yay) Well here is the story that I created in my head during a maths lesson because i had gone with the wind stuck in my head three days ago. The plots decently developed. But won't be able to update really fast because I have six stories that are all being written at the same time, plus I do have three assignments to finish. But anyway, I hope the people that read this (and with my luck that's probably not going to be many) like it. It's basically olden days america ffxiii style, weird idea don't you think. It's inspired by my favourite book, Paint the wind, which is absolutely brilliant, I reccomend reading it if you can find it, I don't think it ended up being really popular, but it's awesome none the less. Damn does Lightning make a good fancy.**

**I hope you enjoy my little puppy ( yes this is a puppy)**

**Disclaimer: I no own ffxiii, just wish I'd did (cause Serah's adorable and I wanna be her)**

**Nyan**

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><p><span>Dance against the wind <span>

Chapter 1: Unwanted life

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><p>The sun had risen and shone in through the window. It was bright but she stayed in her bed. Wrapped up in her many blankets, in the most comfortable position. The sun creeping in through open windows hit against her closed eyelids but she didn't wake up. Outside water dropping from leaf to leaf on the trees could be heard, the cause was the many showers that had kept her up last night.<p>

she was a bad sleeper, always feeling more tired than she should be, she slept in late everyday, but it didn't help. Today she was especially tired, as before mentioned rain had forced her awake on more than one occasion. Most people called her lazy, never did they listen to her about her sleeping problems. She was tired in every way possible, literally and simply a strong boredom over her own life. Soon she expected, her mother would force someone to come and wake her up.

She moved her position, getting more comfortable, her mess of pink hair plopped itself on her face and she was made to flick it over her shoulder. It was annoying when that happened, and her mother questioned why she wouldn't grow it.

She could hear the pitter patter of footsteps outside her double doors. People had been up and about for hours now, waking before dawn some. They had yet to disturb her rest, she would prefer they didn't, but her Mother had made plans today, and obviously she wouldn't let her child out of them. Soon her attempt at sleeping came to a fast end, she could clearly hear the sound of rushed footsteps getting closer. And before she would have been able to blink her doors opened wide letting the culprit of the sounds be in sight. She knew who it was before looking, always was it the same. Butterfly McQueen was one of her fathers slaves, put with the the task of dealing with his eldest daughter, because his wife and many others has given up long ago.

"Miss Claire! How can you still rest? it's so lazy!" She gave a quick pause before realising she had been too rude in what she had said, well aware she was not allowed to do so, so as to not get in trouble later she added in,

"Behaviour such as that is not very befitting a woman of your status, Madam Farron shall be quite angry with you if you choose to not get up soon."

She walked up to the bed, prepared to pull the woman out if she resisted commands. Claire made sure to give her a glare before doing anything else. Butterfly gave a shiver, such an easy girl to scare she was.

"And you should stop doing that as well young miss, Madam Farron don't like that either." She tried to scold her. Her high pitched voice was not any bit intimidating, causing all she said to be ignored even more. Truly just going in one ear and out the other.

Claire, against what she wanted, did get out of her comfortable bed. When Butterfly gave up her mother would be sent in, and that would be when it would all go to hell, so if she could, she'd do anything to stop it.

The dark skinned woman stepped to the side for the older woman, because despite being called 'young miss' Claire was a good two years older, as Butterfly couldn't be much over sixteen.

Claire looked at herself in the mirror seeing what mess her bed had made her hair, how her mother had such hatreds for bad hair, she didn't want her to be yelling like a maniac like so many times before. The waves had made themselves more pronounced, as they did when they turned into such a mess. Any shine it had, had gone; only to return after much brushing.

she sighed and wiped the sleep out of her eyes, she felt so tired, but now that she was awake she would not be allowed to go back back to her bed until late at night.

"Do you need any help, young miss?" Butterfly asked in a quiet voice, trying to sound polite. Unlike her, the other gave a very intimidating impression on people. Her height was apart of the reasons, she wasn't the tallest person, but for a woman she was. The other reason was plainly the way she acted, not a people person that was for sure. It wouldn't be a lie to say that Butterfly was somewhat scared of her.

"No thanks, I'll be fine." The reply came out without much thought.

"Alright then. If you need any help you can call me. Bye young miss" She walked over to the door, which upon opening she was forced to quickly dodge as a person dashed past her. With a silent sigh she left without a complaint, for she knew she wasn't allowed to.

Claire had heard the other girl run in, and had no need to look to know who it had been.

"Claire! You can't be serious? You're not even dressed yet?!" The younger person set right off on complaining.

The other turned back now to look at her room's little intruder.

"Serah, I just woke up, does it matter?"

"Just woke up! Sis it's way past noon. The party begins in three hours!" She continued complaining.

'Party, oh goddess save me.'

Claire sat down on her bed and began taking the knots out of her hair. She absolutely hated parties. And her mum organised so many. Nowadays she was using them to try and find guys she could hopefully marry her daughters off to. For the younger one that wasn't going to be hard.

Just look at her, her hair naturally had such a shine to it, that took Claire many brushes to get. The waves and curls were so perfectly shaped, not that her older sister didn't have them, but hers were bigger and more beautiful. She didn't need to wear a spot of make up, she already was stunning, a perfect complexion. Claire was close to having that, but she was so pale, she didn't have that glow the other had. Even looking at her now, the difference between them was obvious. The dress she wore at the moment, was a snowy white one that even in such a bright room looked like it was lighting up. It had many frills up and down it. cream lace ribbons decorated said frills and on the sleeves. She was so pretty right now in it, with her luscious blondish-pink hair tied into a high ponytail on her right with a ribbon of cream to match the ones on her dress.

To add to her physical beauty, she was also am extremely kind person, her beauty ran more then just skin deep. But Claire on the other hand, to be honest, was cold. She never let people in, always putting walls to stop them invading her space, hiding anything nice in her personality that she had. Her cerulean eyes always seemed so icy. No one liked her besides her family. No one would waste their time getting to truly know her. So no one understood her, none at all.

After brushing out the knots caused by excessive sleeping, meaning her hair's waves had smallened by quite a lot. Claire walked over to her wardrobe, she had to get dressed now, she didn't have the choice of returning to bed. She opened the hard wooden doors and took a look at the mass of dresses. Her father spent a lot of money buying his family fancy things, and that of course included dresses, she hadn't worn most of these in all honesty, she didn't even like dresses. Sometimes she got envious of what men got to wear, they didn't have to deal with layer after layer of unneeded fabrics trying to put something on that in her mind didn't even look good.

Serah sat on the end of her bed watching without making a noise. Most likely she was seeing what her sister was going to choose, their mother had gone off more than once for her eldest wearing plain dresses at formal occasions. She was getting sick of it, so deciding to elude the likely scolding she would get for wearing what she wanted, she picked out one of the more fancier ones, for it was a fancy occasion. Serah always went on joking how you must be fancy at fancy occasions, fashion included in the somewhat joke.

The dress she had taken out was burgundy red and black at the edges. It wasn't anything near what her little sister had on, but at least of wasn't something overly plain. The bottom of the dress had purple ribbons tied to the bottom, that was a strong reason why it wasn't as plain as usual, she mostly steered away from anything with ribbons. It was black at the hips with small pieces of lace the same colour of the ribbons going around it. Hopefully this will do.

"I'm not going to be yelled at if I were this am I?" She asked Serah, she trusted her sisters judgement better than her own, she was far better on this subject.

"Bit dark isn't it?"

"Does it matter?" Her sister retorted, trying not to sound mean.

"Well for you this is an improvement, I'll tell Mother that and you'll have less chance of getting a yelling."

"I'll just have to hope you're right."

Serah didn't say anything more until her sister was almost fully dressed.

"Don't forget a corset, mamma shall yell at you if you don't" Serah giggled in a sing-song voice.

"I hate corsets, I barely see the point." Claire grumbled

"Still have to wear them, I know they're uncomfortable."

"They're not uncomfortable, they hurt." She continued in a bad mood.

"Do you want to be yelled at again?" Serah asked with another giggle.

"I'll be yelled at for anything. Mother's always out to get me." She stated. She was truly beginning to believe that whole heartedly.

"Only 'cause you make her."

Claire pulled the burgundy dress up over her head and tugged it into a proper position.

"If she's the one yelling she's the one making her do it" Claire gave her reply bluntly. Before brushing her hair to the side and leaving the room.

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><p>Claire walked past some of her father's slaves cleaning like mad men getting the house in top shape ready for the party that would begin in only a matter of hours. She would be left with nothing to do, she never had a thing to do. There wasn't much point in getting up in the morning really. One of her father's friends walked by her heading for her father's study where she could guess and say her father was somewhere near there. The man greeted her warmly before starting down the stairs. Down the hall she knew she had just spotted her mother, and quickly making the decision to avoid her, she made a run for the staircase. Lifting up the ends of her long dress she dashed right past the man who had past her only moments before, he was rather startled by her but hid it as best he could.<p>

Claire continued running away from her mother, knowing that she would catch up eventually, she knew this house far better than her daughter, blame that on sleeping too much. She ran down the lengths of whole hallways, dodging between the servants as she did so. She did know good places to hide in this house, thanks to all the times she and Serah had played hide and seek as kids, but it wouldn't be easy to get into those places, she'd grown quite a lot since those times. Luckily for her she did have places that for reasons she wasn't that sure of, her mother never thought to look there for her. You'd think she would think too, after many times of finding her daughter hiding there.

Claire opened the doors to the courtyard hoping she'd gotten far enough away that no one had spotted her doing so. All the best places to hide that she could still get to, were out here. They were little places for her to escape from what she was made to deal with on a daily basis. And sure as hell did she hate all of it. She knew what her mother would want to talk to her about, and she sure didn't want to hear a word of it.

She moved to the back passing by the glistering water fountain in the middle of the grey stoned square, crouching down low so she wasn't visible from the windows. At the end of the courtyard was a small wooden and steel railed bridge that made a passageway over a little river from the home to a nicely kept field. She usually hang out here for the lack of people. She wouldn't have to deal with her mother's nagging or having to talk to Serah on subjects she had no interest in, plus she wouldn't be bumping into people constantly, as not many did go near here. Some slaves cut the grass and watered the flowers and plants to keep it in best possible shape. Not like people always walked about here, but it being just behind the house, it would make a bad sight from the windows, and nobody wanted that. Though Claire couldn't give a damn, if it was messy it would be a better place to hide.

She crossed the wooden planks at a slowed pace from before, if she kept on going she would puff herself out, causing more yelling when her mother finally caught up to her. She lifted up the ends of her dress to keep it above the pea green grass, that her mother probably thought looked brilliant with how shiny it appeared to be. The Rain that hadn't happened very long before had turned the dirt to mud and in places it had yet to turn back.

'Oh won't mother be angry to know I've gone and got myself covered in mud' She laughed in her head. She had no shoes on but truly couldn't give a damn about it, the grass felt good beneath her feet, Though the mud was beginning to feel annoying.

Claire took off to where some of the trees got closer together. The mud jumped up on her legs with the fastened pace but her dress stayed just out of reach for the brown guck to grab hold of. The emerald green leaves were dropping water droplets on her head as she rushed past knocking them out of places. They hang so low here, it was brilliant cover. Hiding admist the dark greens and browns that covered everything good enough that looking in from outside you wouldn't even be able to catch the deep red of her dress or the pale pink of her hair, certainly this was the best hiding spot.

In the middle of the swaying trees was a seat under the biggest one around. The tree in particular leave's were so abundant and close together that even in the most harshest rain you could stay dry in it's cover. The leaves at the bottom were dry besides the water that had fallen from much higher up, that proved it pretty good.

She sat down on the stone seat under the only dry tree around. The grass was longer in this part and covered her feet. It tickled but she had gotten used to the feeling running around this place as a child, she liked it actually. Once upon a time this was a place where Serah and her had played. They would spend hours a day here running around, climbing up and down the trees. It had been so fun, this place was very nostalgic. But Serah didn't come here anymore, she remembered it had been Butterfly's mum, who had died some years ago, who had spotted them here one day. And damn did she go off her head, Scared the hell out of both girls, but they had been kids, and a angry woman that towers over you would have been pretty freaky as a kid. And since then Serah stopped coming, because she didn't want to be yelled at like she had that day. The younger sister wasn't as accustomed to getting scolded like the older one, and she seriously didn't want to have to deal with it again. But Claire who had been used to it even by then didn't see it as anything, and still came to this place. Most people weren't even aware she still did go, no one payed very much attention to her; no one wanted to know her. Too cold of a person for their liking.

She laid down on the cold grey seat, it was old and had crumbled at the edges, but was strong enough to hold her weight. She felt the wind go past her, it was so calming here, The sound of birds chirping could be heard every now and then, but never for long, and it was usually very quiet. This place was quiet enough she could hear the birds wings as they fluttered off. She felt the leaves fall off the swaying trees encircling her, some landed on her arms and other places, the water that covered them found it's way onto her before the leaves were pushed off with a new wind blowing past to take them away, only to replace them with new ones. The water moved with each wind but didn't fall off as fast as the light weighted leaves, it was refreshingly cold. Strands of her blondish-pink hair hit her face but she wasn't bothered. She closed her eyes and rested drifting into a sleep listening to the calming sounds of tweeting birds and the leaves caught in the wind.

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><p>But not so long after that this calming peace was forcefully interrupted by expected yells from a certain older woman.<p>

"Claire, what on earth are you doing out here?!"

She opened her eyes to look at her mother's angry face. First thing she noticed was that she had taken a pair of shoes off one of the slaves, of course she don't wanna get her shoes dirty, doesn't matter to her if someone else's does. To be honest her shoes were unreasonably expensive, and the shoes she'd taken were probably home made from the looks of them. So at least her reason made sense, even if it still seemed stupid to her daughter, they were only shoes after all.

The elder woman gave out a long sigh and adjusted her dress so she had better grips on it, this woman would be utterly terrified to get a dress of such high quality covered with the icky brown ooze that she was rather alien to her called mud.

"Oh Claire, what am I going to do with you?" She took a couple steps toward the girl on the stone bench, her feet made squishing sounds from each step, mud jumped up and covered the partially destroyed old shoes.

Her daughter sat upright, she wasn't giving room for her mother to sit down, the older one would never take a seat on something so old, dusty and just plain dirty. A look was delivered to said chair from her though, after Claire had moved. It was visible now the condition of it. Another long sigh escaped her red painted lips.

"You need to act proper. I don't know of other woman of your age and status running like a child through a muddy field. And then to sit on something like...that." She pointed to the bench like she was revolted by it, probably was no doubt.

"Why does it matter how I act, I'm not the one who is paid any attention now am I?" Her daughter shot back icily.

Her mother gave her a look none too pleasant.

"They give enough for you to make them dislike you. Do you want that? It's an insult." She drabbled on, this was a conversation they had had many times, never did it do anything. Her daughter made no reply.

"Why do you make so many people hate you like this? You don't act like you should, and you are always being so mean to guests. I don't think I'd be lying if I said you're more nicer to the slaves than them, Slaves for the goddess's sake!" Her mum spoke poisonously the last part. She didn't value people of darker skin as people at all. It was sickening.

"What do you mean I don't act like I should. I'm myself and I know who I am. No one but me can say if I'm acting right! Why should I care how I act to others?!" Claire spat out in deep anger.

Her mother fell silent. No one had won the argument yet. Both were extremely stubborn when you came down to it. The older woman was running out of anything to say, but her side of the fight would never stop unless she was the victor. Which her daughter hoped would never happen.

"If you keep acting like this you will never find yourself a husband." Her mother came out with after much thinking.

The result was something almost like a growl from the younger one.

"What if I don't want one!" She screamed out, very pissed off from all this.

Her mother's face went blank, like she'd been told the most worst thing in the world. She didn't say a word for a long time. The space between them became so quiet that the only sound was from the wind and their breaths.

"How can you say that? What Woman doesn't want a husband? It's unheard of!" And oh goddess the bitch was confused.

"You stupid old hag. There's nothing wrong with me if I don't want one. I'm damn sure as hell I'm not the first, what are you going on about saying it's unheard of?" Her daughter snapped. Her look consumed with hatred.

Clearly her mother was hurt, judging the look on her face. But it was her fault. She'd brought her daughter to calling her an 'old hag'. You can't get away with saying such things without a punishment.

"Who do you have to act like this?" Her mother breathed out. "It so unbecoming of someone with a life like this. Why can't you be more like Serah? She's such a nice girl."

If she saw the venomous scowl that was aimed at her, she payed it no attention. Claire never felt this angry. Her mother usually stopped arguments quickly, always saying that it's not right for people like them. She didn't hate this woman, she loved her parents, she truly did, but right now it was looking like her mother was intent on changing that.

"Maybe that's because I'm not Serah,That girl lives in fairy tales." She paused half regretting saying something so mean about someone she loved so much. "I'm myself. I'm not nice and charming like you'd like me to be, but I don't care. I don't need someone to tell me how to act, or how to live out my life. I'm fine without you trying to control me."

A silence came down once again, it wasn't because they didn't know what to say, it was because her mother had accepted that arguing would get her nowhere.

"If you decide to act like a normal person. You can follow me back, but if not. Stay here for as long as you want. I see no point in you attending the party." With that she pivoted and took her leave, not before her daughter remembered to say,

"Just because their skin isn't white doesn't mean their not human." Referring to her mother's earlier comment.

"Tsk" Her mother then left, making the tree filled field empty but for one person.

Claire sighed and moved strands of hair that had fallen on her face behind her ear. She brushed off leaves that had snapped off branches during all that. The sun was getting lower, the party that for days her mother had been unable to speak of anything else would soon be starting. Whether she went to it or not, she would be yelled at. There was no escaping that. Her mother had such a problem with her, only because her daughter wanted to act like how she wanted to be, not how someone else wanted her to.

She didn't want this life, she fit in nowhere, it didn't matter where she went. Everyone hated her excluding her father and little sister. No one and that meant absolutely no one understood her. Why did her life have to be like this?

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><p><strong>Did you enjoy it? Hope you did, this is gonna be a fun story, specially 'cause Fang is an important character in it, And she's like the freaking aussie in the group, so pretty much mean that she's epic.<strong>

**Augh, everyones talking in southern american accents in my head.**

**I will absolutely love you if you review, I have increasing mental problems and sending me a review will help me keep a better grasp on my sanity. Jess and Claire, you don't count but reviews from you will still be appreciated, just getting them from complete randoms will make me more happy because i expect you to review because you know how happy they make me.**

**But yes anyway, review and you shall be doing a good deed.**

**~Serah Villiers Valentine**


	2. sneaking around

**(2,558 words, think the other one was longer) Well here is the second chapter of dance against the wind. More of a humourous chapter I guess, Fang knows how to ruin moments. She'll have her serious moments, just not now. Did you know that the internet is a better thesaurus then a thesaurus?**

**Well enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I no own ffxiii**

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><p><span>Dance against the wind<span>

Chapter 2: Sneaking around

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><p>The wind rustled loudly outside a window, forcing her to wake up as the sounds loudened. She picked herself up and focused her gaze out the one window of her room that was open. She chuckled in an unfittingly evil tone,<p>

"Remind me to kill you later," Her accented voice threatned the wind.

She let out an exasperated sigh and wiped the sleep from her eyes, she wasn't one for waking early, but she had the curse of being a light sleeper. Which was starting to get worse, the fact of the wind waking her up was a sign of that. She pushed the messy dark hair of hers out of her face, letting out a yawn. She hopped out of bed and shut the window with more force then intended, a bang resided through the room.

She looked back to the large oak doors of her room seeing if anyone was to come in and wonder what had happened.

"Okay, nobody heard it, it didn't happen." She spoke to herself. If she broke this window, it would be the third this year alone.

But the knock on her door proved that wrong, She turned around biting her lower lip,

"Yeah?..."

"Are you going to let me in, I promise I won't tell your daddy you've been assaulting the windows again." A light melodic voice answered.

She sighed a sigh relief, realising she was safe, the only one to catch her was not the type to be a tattletale.

"It's fine, you can come in."

The doors opened to allow in a honey skinned woman, who from a distance would leave you stuck figuring her age, for she had both a young appearance, and one of someone older. Her hair was purely straight going just past her hips, her face was small and pretty. She gave out a kind and gentle aura.

"Well how do you do Annette?" The other said in an attempted intelligent sounding voice.

"I'm just fine thank you, darling little puppy." She went along with it. Giving a warm smile to the younger woman.

"Your friend is here, I was wondering if you might have wanted to know, that is all." She gave a half failed curtsey, Her pregnant stomach didn't allow her to do it properly.

"Well thanks for telling me, Guess I might go pay him a visit. Thanks very much." Keeping up with the same tone.

"Yes yes alright, guess I'll be on my way then, see you later." She smiled, waved and closed the door behind her.

The one remaining in the room smiled at the closed door. Annette and her were good friends, but they'd left that hidden from the younger ones parents. She learnt to do that thanks to not so long ago her sister had been asked who her best friend was, and she named a 37 year old black man. And her parents being as racist as they were, put her in a mental hospital because they honestly thought she was crazy. Yes, that actually happened, it wasn't not a lie.

Annette was the only half white slave who worked on her father's plantation. Her story was not a very nice one. She'd been married and had two sons and a daughter. Both sons were no longer here and her daughter died as a child. Her husband, who was mean to everyone, had been shot by an enraged white man some years ago; nobody had felt sad for him. She remarried to a man far nicer than him, he was the best friend of the masters youngest daughter, who now resided in a mental hospital. Him and Annette had a three year old son together, and at current she was pregnant with their second child. She had to hand it to Annette being able to stay so healthy when she worked so much, not to mention her being 43.

Moving her gaze from the door to her partially open wardrobe, she scavenged for a dress. She took the large wooden doors in hand and swung them open, having a silent laugh at the mess that greeted her. The dresses lay on the floor or badly hung from the top, the pile on the bottom caused them to tilt significantly, so they weren't all tidy either. she pulled out a black dress at random and rushed getting ready, not properly getting ready. She skipped putting a corset on and went too fast to do a good job of anything. She left the room without brushing her hair. It was an utter mess, but it wouldn't be much different anyway, her hair found it fun to be a tangle of black strands that believed it stupid for a brush to tell them what to do.

Running past others startling them in the process, she looked for the friend that Annette mentioned was here at the moment. As she jumped down three steps at a time, causing the ones nearby to give her a strange look; she guessed that he was here because his father had brought him along when he'd come over to discuss business with her father. He was always brought along, even though he was never involved with any of the conversations they had. Now why did Annette have such an evil smile when she'd mentioned he was here, that was so uncharacteristic of her. But that just made her want to know more.

She took a turn into the library, her father's office was in the next room, completely closed off if it wasn't for the small door that was almost always closed. It shut out all sound but what was inside there itself. Some people just had to take advantage of that. Her father was one hell of a racist old bastard, but she wasn't sure whether she should say she hated him, certain expects sure, but not him in a whole.

The library was huge, that was the best word to describe it. Red painted the walls making it look intimidating, It had double story bookcases which took ladders to get to. There was row after row of them, bookcases filled with decade old books, there must have been thousands in just what she could see. This place was like a maze, when you got away from the open part at it's beginning, with all it's grandness and red and gold couches in the middle; it went into a corridor like part. The cases were smaller to a much more average size, they blocked parts of the smaller library part and you had to dodge past them and the white fancy chairs that littered every corner and edge.

And finally, through searching through the red maze lined with wooden bookshelves and an army of books, she found her 'target'. The reason why Annette had had that evil smile was cleared up in less then a second. She stood closely at the edge of a case, peaking over to the other side where he was. She thought up a way to make a grand entrance, possibly just to scare the living daylights out of him, and just because in this situation it was too tempting not to be annoying in some way. For there he was, with his back against the bookcase, locking lips with one of her fathers slaves, who just happened to be a boy. Time to ruin this moment.

She sneaked over to the side they were on, far too distracted in what they were doing to notice the sound of her dress dragging along the ground and as well as the sound of her clambering onto one of the fancy white chairs, which was in the perfect position, right behind them. The most evilist of grins popped itself on her face, silently she took a breath, and in a loud voice yelled out, in a somewhat superior accent,

"Oh Cid, don't you know you're supposed to read books in a library?" She tried stopping the laughter that came out afterwards but didn't do a very good go of that.

She got a perfect reaction from her sudden appearance, the boy that she didn't know went red all over and ran off, And Cid just turned totally red, and made the attempt to hide it under the collar of his shirt.

"Fang, you drunk puppy!" He muttered.

"I'm not drunk, you just made that too tempting. Certainly got myself a nice surprise there, didn't know you were into that type of thing." She chuckled, but Cid watched the shaking legs of the unsteady chair, knowing clearly of what was about to happen.

"You're evil," He muttered again.

"I was expecting you to say that, your just lucky that I-" She didn't finish because the left legs of the chair broke in two and she found herself falling to the ground. All Cid saw was a flash of black and white, from her dress and then she was sprawling on the ground. He couldn't help the quiet snigger that escaped him.

"Oh screw you!"

"Karma's a fun thing isn't it?"

"Didn't I say screw you? now help me up!" She begged, her dress was making things hard.

He did as she said and held out a hand to her, still trying to hide the red on his face. Fang took his hand and he pulled her up. She was unsteady from having hit her head when she fell. Her head was spinning slightly.

"That's not a good thing to do." Cid looked away, scolding her on her last actions before the chair broke.

"Hey why are you saying that, our dads are right near here, you know how they are. If it was them who had to walk in on that then you would be in hell right now, they would want to kill you, literally. The best thing you could hope for would to be sent to a mental hospital. That's their usual anyway. You should be thanking me."

Cid still didn't look her way. He had to admit she had a point. "Just because you're right doesn't mean I'm going to thank you."

"Just promise me you won't do that again in a place like this. Or it's off to the insane asylum for you." She flicked him in the head.

"Fine, but that doesn't mean I'm going to stop." He rubbed the now sore spot on his head. "Considering what they did to Vanille, I don't doubt they would shove me into that place too if they knew about this." He lowered his hand down and a quizzical expression came onto his face.

"So what were you about to say before the chair snapped?" He asked, Looking at her with a questioning expression.

"What was I about to say?" She laughed and her evil Fang grin reappeared like it had when she came up with her 'grand entrance'

"Just that you got lucky with me being the one to find you, Better someone that bats for the same team then one that don't."

The look she received showed how taken aback he was,

"What?! Fang you...?"

"Like girls? Yeah always have." She chuckled. "I honestly don't see what all the fuss about guys is, and I always have to deal with it when I'm stuck with other girls. Probably why I can get along with guys better."

He still looked shocked.

"Why has nobody ever mentioned this to me?"

"You never said a word about liking guys, what are you going on about?"

'Damn got me there' He said in his head. "Right.." He mumbled, going red again.

"I remember a couple months ago" She began holding back a laugh. "Me and Vanille were talking to Sazh and I told him I thought Annette was attractive, Oh goddess the look he gave me." The laugh she'd been holding in burst out.

"He was like, 'you remember she's my wife right?' And I was like, 'of course I do'." She burst into a fit of laughter, holding onto her knees so she didn't fall down. "That was so funny!"

Cid was still staring blankly, but then something clicked.

"Wait, so it wasn't the fact you said a girl was attractive, he was weirded out because it just happened to be his wife?"

"Yeah," Fang stood up straight, acting like she had never just almost fell over from laughing.

"I would say in his situation being so judgmental would seem extremely stupid. Not like it didn't take him awhile to get over it. That was how he found out after all. It took a lot of help from Vanille to calm him down."

Still receiving blank stares from the man.

"You are drunk you stupid puppy."

"No I'm not I already told you that didn't I?" She grabbed onto his arm and moved herself close, trying to use close proximity to creep him out.

He pulled her off using his other hand giving a small glare, "Don't do that."

"Oh I forgot, you don't like women," She joked, getting another glare as a result.

"Oh shut up." She was starting to think she'd gotten him angry, oh well, angry people are more fun to annoy.

"I don't have to do what you tell me to do, I don't give a crap if you are a guy." She was lucky Cid was one of the rare men that didn't think they had full control over women, or she would be in hell right now.

"This is going nowhere."

"Then why are you still talking?" She spoke in a questioning tone, being somewhat immature.

"Why do you always dress like you're in mourning?" He referred to her black dress she wasn't too sure she was actually allowed to wear.

"Because I like black so what? I'll have to change later." She shrugged.

"Oh right, the Farrons' party, almost forgot about it. My mothers forcing me to attend it."

"Same here, I feel you pain." She laughed, then said again. "Hey they have daughters right?"

Cid gave her a stare, wondering where exactly she was going with this, not like much guessing was needed.

"Wonder if they're attractive too?"

"Oh for the goddesses sake Fang." He face palmed.

"Hey I was only joking around," She giggled as she made for the exit.

For now at least, that was true.

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><p><strong>Thank you to IkutoJS, Fujingodofwind, nomask, cabby2299, icegirl1, Rakvia, Inmortal shadow and claire (seeker of the skies) for reviewing.<strong>

**Reviews shall be much appreciated, and if you don't I will go through with my plan to steal Serah, and considering the full details of my plan, I'd reccomend you to review.**

** Jya ne,**

**~Serah Villiers Valentine**


	3. escape

**(4,351 words. I think this is the longest one (Nyan)) Sadly I have another assignment to do and will have to stop updating stories until it's done. But don't worry, I'll try to be fast and get it done so no one will get annoyed by no updates. I've updated a story everyday this week, I'll do it once more tomorrow and then I've successfully gone through one loop in five days (I stopped writing one of my stories since I'm going to re-write it anyway soon.) If any one's interested, on sunday I wrote a cute little ffXIII oneshot, it's Hope/Light cause I was bored. Anyway, enjoy the third chapter I wrote with partially writers block.**

**Disclaimer: I no own ffXIII**

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><p><span>Dance against the wind<span>

Chapter 3: Escape

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><p>Claire had stayed under the shade of the trees for around an hour after her mother had left. Her paradise had been shattered, if her mother knew about this place then when she went here again if she was unlucky enough for her mother to remember this place then she could easily send her daughter back to the house. How sad it was that her childhood hiding place was now ruined.<p>

The party would start soon, and she knew whether she went or not she would get yelled at, for either not attending or for not acting like a woman of her status. So basically for the usual things. She couldn't escape it no matter what, her mother couldn't stand her daughter not acting the way she wanted her too.

She sighed and got up from the stone bench, brushing a leaf from her hair while doing so. She would have to leave now if she wanted to suffer through the least amount of angry yelling her mother and the servants, who as well hated her, would dish out on her. She lifted up the ends of her burgundy dress above the tips of the grass and walked back to the house. she passed by two young slaves watering lilies near the wooden bridge connecting the field to the courtyard; Before she crossed that bridge herself. They gave her a disapproving look, they had been convinced by the words of the older people in this house and had been made to have a dislike for the master's older daughter.

As she passed through the courtyard she saw a grey haired slave looking at her from a window give a worse look then the two before, signaling to someone who was hidden behind the velvet curtain. Claire didn't care about it, the looks she received at the moment were nothing more than the usual. She walked across the cold grey stones closer to the double doors that would allow entrance back into the grand halls of her house. As she lowered her hand to the golden doorknob the door swung open before her and Butterfly McQueen stood at the other side with an expression a mix of flustered and angry.

"Miss Claire, Madam Farron's party begins in an hour!" Her high pitched voice announced,

"And look at you! such a mess, Madam shall be so angry. We have to get you fixed up now!"

She took grasp of Claire's arm and quickly pulled her along the halls, heading to upstairs where she could get the older girl fixed up. She tried tugging against the small girl's pull but the pace she was forcible moving at hindered the attempts. She didn't look it but Butterfly was a fast girl, and she had learnt to have a good grasp from all her dealings with Claire in the past. So she was made to give up in the end, about the time when they reached the staircase.

They passed by Serah's room which she could guess was in there as well getting the same treatment that she was about to get. The difference would be that her sister must have been nearly done at the moment, and she wouldn't have to get any mud off of her; Claire's feet had been covered with it, behind them slaves cleaned it off the floor. They'd been put into overdrive for today, Madam Farron would notice even the tiniest of mistakes, they had to make sure it was perfect for tonight.

When they'd gotten to Claire's room, Butterfly had gotten another girl to assist her in getting the master's daughter ready. The girl, who she honestly had no idea who they were got some water and started to clean mud of her feet. Butterfly mentioned constantly how she was amazed that she hadn't gotten any on her dress, said it seemed impossible that she could get her feet so dirty and be fine everywhere else. Claire resisted the urge to roll her eyes from how simple the answer was, all she'd simply done was lift up the dress. But she kept her mouth closed for now. She was in a bad mood and her annoyance would be clear in her voice, she'd never been one for hiding it. She at least made the attempt to keep the ones that had serious negative opinions of her as small as she could if she had the right moment to do so.

Butterfly was brushing back her hair strongly taking out the multitude of knots it had been delivered today from a nap on a stone bench. It hurt with each time the brush went through the blondish-pink waves, but Claire forced herself not to voice her annoyance, or cause the physical harm she wanted to cause either. She'd actually rather scare these two out of their minds then let them continue with this, and she didn't even see any point in doing that at all. It proved just how little she cared for all of this. Butterfly forced the hair to the back of her neck instead of letting it hang on her shoulder like it always did. Another thing to irk her, she didn't like her hair like that, it was how her mother thought it looked best. That was why she'd started to keep it on the side.

As she had gotten older, Claire had given up trying to please her mother, it was an impossible task for someone like her. Eventually she'd gotten into the habit of finding things that would get on her mothers nerves, to make her peeved on purpose. She still hadn't realised it was on purpose, she acted like her daughter was making mistakes about things because of how she was rather than the actual truth she wasn't smart enough to notice. Because of her mother's attention to detail, the slightest of things could become objects of plain annoyance for her. And Claire wearing her hair on the side had become one of them.

Unfortunately Butterfly agreed with her mother on certain things, and so that was why her hair was being put up the way her mother preferred it. And to make Claire even more bugged about all this, she pinned it up with a purple ribbon tied into a bow. she hated bows, they were a Serah type thing, not for her.

After the other girl had finished cleaning up the mud she had started putting makeup on her. Which she truly believed she had absolutely no need to for. It had barely no effect anyway, she had a good enough complexion to start with. Everything they were doing seemed useless to her. It wasn't like people would pay attention to her, they never did before. Serah was the one who got all the attention. Why even try to talk to a bitch like her when she's got a much nicer, cuter sister who'd be more than happy to talk. Claire let a sigh escape lips, that had been the thought on every guys mind for awhile now. It sucked for them since they don't have much of a chance with her, sure she was nice but someone had already gone and beat them to her. The bad thing about that was that it was just another one of the idiots, she was surprised how bad her sister's taste in men was.

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><p>Claire sat at the top of the stairs at the third highest step after she'd been 'fixed up'. She felt agitated from all that. Her head was hurting from the tightness that had been caused by how her hair had been pulled back. She wasn't used to it being in that style and she could say her head wasn't either. The makeup she felt just made her annoyed, it made her feel like something about her was fake even though the difference would have only been noticeable from up close. She bit her lip, already she was wishing this night was over, and it hadn't even started.<p>

Footsteps behind her alerted her to the presence of another looming closer to her. She was about to turn back but the voice answered her wonder over who they were before she had seen them,

"You know that the stairs are not a seat?" A giggle escaped the painted lips of the younger girl.

"Serah do you really think I care?" Her sister turned back and looked at her.

The fifteen year old knelt down at the top of the steps above where Claire sat. Her smile not leaving her face.

"I know, unlike Mamma I actually know you. Keep that in mind next time, I was only just saying after all." She stayed in the same position waiting for her sister to reply.

Claire eyed that happy smile of hers for a second before saying anything else,

"Sorry," She apologised first, she had spoken too meanly before, she hated herself when ever she did that to her sister, Serah was the one and only person she tried to avoid doing it too. "I didn't really mean it."

"I know, you're just in a bad mood because you hate this kind of stuff." Serah stood up straight and began descending the steps, "Keep in mind it won't last forever." She beamed as she left.

'But then there will be another one' Claire's mind said to itself, 'It's a never ending loop that my life is full of'

When Serah left she returned to watching the slaves putting last minute touches to everything. Soon the dreaded party would be starting, she'd follow the usual schedule, her mother dragging her to different places, before she would give up getting her daughter to socialise for once and let her go off on her own. Where'd she would be at loss at what to do and would be left with nothing to do but wonder around a crowd who either didn't know her or didn't like her. And at the end of the night she would flop into bed glad that it was over and done with, but dreading for when the next one came.

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><p>Claire had made the decision, to basically go and hide in a corner when the guests started to arrive. She didn't want to talk to any of them, she knew her mother would try to force her to at some point, but for now she could avoid it until that was no longer possible.<p>

She saw plenty of people she recognised or knew, and some she had never seen before. Her mother had gone to parties that she had successfully convinced her to not make her go, so maybe a percentage of people here were ones her mother had met at said other parties. She saw many boys talking to Serah during this time, two who stayed by her side from the moment they had arrived. They had met her awhile ago at a party her mother had organised. Their fathers were business partners of her father, and quite major ones at that.

Noel was the brown haired boy to her right, Serah regarded him as nothing more than a close friend; which some did find weird that she could see a boy as a friend. Sadly it was he who was the one Claire could stand, the other however, she hated. Snow was the blonde tank that stood to Serah's left. He was the most obnoxious person she had ever met, and in more than one occasion she had caused him physical harm. He had this annoying habit of calling her sis, which was one of the most agitating things about him, and he wouldn't stop no matter what she said or how many punches she delivered him. However Serah liked this guy was a mystery to her, she wasn't stupid, what did she see in him? Claire took dread in the fact that when Serah was the legal age she wanted to marry the guy. That would make her his sister in law, that sure wouldn't help how he called her sis.

She could tell that almost all the guests had arrived, and so upon noticing this, she decided to go find a better hiding spot. This place was actually rather noticeable, her mother would find her with almost too much ease. She got off the chair she'd been sitting on to go find a place that wasn't so occupied, those were the places her mother were more than likely to be in.

She found her way through the crowd and away from the grand hall to the hallway at it's end to the right. As she made her way down all he passed was slaves bringing food from the kitchen to the ongoing party. They passed her with little regards, putting their thoughts and concentration on what they were doing instead. She was glad for that. She walked at a fast pace, as she strode to get away from what she would have to go through if she returned to the other room. She intended to go to where she had been earlier in the day, even if her mother knew the location now. She had doubts the woman would remember it, she didn't put much care into remembering details she found so trivial.

As she got closer to the oak doors a hand took hold of hers and twisted her to face who it belonged to. Dressed in a bright golden dress stood her mother with an accomplished smirk on her face.

"So where do you think you're going young miss?" She asked with a condescending tone, ignoring the poisonous scowl she got as a reward for her sudden action. "You aren't getting out of this. You are my daughter and you are meant to attend. Now remember to act like a proper lady and come with me." She commanded, with a voice strict and cold.

Without giving a single thought about what her daughter wanted she pulled her along with a firm grip on her wrist. She didn't even look back once, so she didn't notice the pained expression she wore. This was the second time she'd been tugged along in the same way, and same part of the house not to mention, to something she'd much rather avoid. Her hand still felt sore from the previous time this had happened, and the tight grip her mother hand was not helping the pain she already felt.

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><p>So in the end she had failed to escape what she knew her mother would eventually do, force her to make the attempt to socialise by making her stick with her as she wandered about the crowd of rich men and women.<p>

During this time her mother had chattered away to three of her fathers business partners and their wives, two of these people she knew were the idiot that is Snow's parents. You could see the resemblance, his father with his massive stature and wide shoulders; And his mother with the exactly same shade of hair and eye colour. After that she talked with a couple who lived in a plantation nearby, owners of one of the three in the area. The father had a mess of wild blackish brownish hair, he didn't have the body remenisant of a tank but he did have height, and a lot of it. His wife was a different story, she was a short and slender woman with shining curls of red with pink twirls mixed in along it. Both had amazing green eyes, the wife especially, they shone out of her head like circular emeralds. She'd heard plenty of these two before, but had never seen them this close before. They were the only family in this part of Pulse that originated from Pulse, and had not migrated from Cocoon at some point in time. They went with the Pulsian tradition of saying the last name first, their's being Oerba Yun Reks and Oerba Dia Awana. They had two daughters, one who at current were refusing to say much about, and the other whose name apparently was Oerba Yun Fang; she'd never heard a thing about her, until now she hadn't even been aware these two had kids. They said she was much like her father in appearance, but not in personality. It came off that they couldn't stress that enough while saying it. They seemed nice, but something about them told her that wasn't all true.

But luckily for her, as she had became increasingly uneasy being near them, her mother had ended the conversation and made her follow her where she could have a new one. So again she was circling the room with a never ending need for chatter, Claire stayed silent through all of this. For one it was a way to get on her mother's nerves and she plainly didn't want to talk, she wasn't the talkative type.

As the night drew on, they ran across the wife of the other plantation owner, a woman with a peculiar hair colour (though not like she could have much of an opinion herself) that had caught her eye many times this night as she had let her gaze wander to get away from the sheer boredom she was feeling. It was silver, cut at a boys length. She was younger than her mother that was clear, she like her mother wore a yellow dress. Though her's did look better than the older one's ugly one. She greeted her mother warmly with her white gloved hand, and then offered it to her as well. That had taken her by suprise, no one had done that to her in years on occasions like this. Most people were too scared of her, some just plainly didn't like her. She was a different person than her mother she was making that clear even without saying a word. Her name was Nora Esthiem, she said that her husband Bartholomew was friends with her father, but she'd never met this person before.

The stupid thing that during all this, Claire had barely noticed the little boy clinging to Nora's side. He had the same silver hair she did, guessing their connection was easy, with them having such a resemblance. When Nora caught her staring at him, which she hadn't realised she'd been doing, she explained who he was, even if she could tell it had already figured it out.

"He's my son," She spoke happily holding onto his smaller hand, "His name is Hope." Claire looked back at Nora as she answered her thoughts. She looked so happy right now, she felt envious of it, her mother could never smile like that when she was near. Even when she was at the age he was currently at, she'd already lost the ability.

"I'm not interrupting anything am I?" A brown haired man asked as he came over to them, She couldn't help but notice the little boy give a mean look to him as he walked over. While his mother however lit up,

"Bart!" She exclaimed happily, an excited smile lit her features as the man got closer.

Claire's look switched over to her mother as she grabbed hold of her hand again,

"Might want to leave now," She whispered before Giving Nora a quick goodbye before stepping away with her daughter in tow.

She was getting more and more irritated as this went on. It was the same thing happening again and again. Just talk, talk, talk then go to someone else and repeat. Honestly nobody here had anything to talk about anyway. She could spot some girl near the library making weird shapes with her arms that looked like they'd be more interesting to talk about then the one's she was being forced to right now, and that person looked like an idiot.

She had to get away from this, her mother was too distracted to notice if she left, it was the perfect time. She took some quick steps backwards, checking again that she definitely didn't have the older woman's attention. she didn't, she really was too engrossed in the mindless chatter. It was her perfect chance, so she took it. She began at almost a run, doing her best to dodge the crowd, even she was surprised by how little people paid attention to her. She came close to knocking people over repetitively, you think someone would care. How stupid were these people?

Near the hallway she'd tried to use to escape her mother earlier in the night, she was again stopped by a hand, this time resting on her shoulder. She looked around to see a man with dark brown hair and eyes very much like her own.

"You know if you keep running away from her like this you're going to hurt her Light," He told her with his warm voice.

"I know," She replied, "Father."

He gave her a slight nod and let her carry on with her little moment for escape that he'd gotten all too used to seeing her do through the many years her mother had tried to make her do things she didn't want. She was a strange girl, that was for sure.

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><p>Claire came to the end of the hallway, to the wooden double doors that marked the entrance to the courtyard. It was dark out, but she would find a way to her usual spot. But when she opened it she was greeted by a sight she would rather have not seen. It was pouring buckets outside. She growled at the sight of the rain. But, truthfully, if she had to choose between staying in here and chancing it in the freezing cold rain, she'd chose the rain.<p>

And so she did, the freedom she felt the moment she stepped outside more than made up for the water that pelted her from the skies. She ran across the grey stoned square over to the bridge at the back. The planks creaked under her weight with each step but she didn't care. The sounds that she heard weren't from the stupid people she'd been surrounded by but of nature and nothing more.

As she got to the end, she stared at the grass for a second, the dirt below it must have turned into total mud by now from all the rain pouring down. Damn will her mother be pissed at her now if she chose to walk through this. But did she care what that old hag thought? Not at all. She jumped off that bridge over the part which had been completely flooded and landed with a thud onto the muddy grass. She heard it squish under her black boots. She didn't bother pick up her dress to stop it getting turned into a mess, she was already a mess from the rain, why should she care?

As she rounded the trees to her usual spot, she got a surprise, there was already someone there. What was more confusing thing about that that it was the little kid that had been clinging to the silver haired woman her mother had had a conversation with earlier in the night. She took some steps closer to him, he was sitting with his legs drawn close on the soaked stone bench that she had came here to sit on. Looks like she had been beaten to it.

"Aren't you Nora's son?" She asked, even if she had no need to ask that question as she already knew it.

He raised his head noticing her for the first time,

"Um, yeah...How long have you been there?" He sounded like he was about to panic. Couldn't blame the kid if he was scared of her, so was everyone else.

"Not long, I just got here." She explained. "How long have you been here?" She asked the same question.

"I don't know, Since dad came back to talk to us. I left because I didn't want to talk to him."

That looked of anger she'd spotted before came back to his eyes for a second.

"Do you hate your father?" She questioned, feeling curious.

"What, why do you think that?" He sounded like he was lying as he said that. Trying to not have to answer what she'd asked.

Claire took some steps closer, and took a seat next to him on the bench. Partly because she needed to sit down, partly so she could get out of the rain, under this tree it was so thick leaved that not much rain could get through. She was getting sick of her hair clinging to her like it was. He eyed her as she did it, but then looked away, he appeared to be scared at the moment. Maybe he was scared of her, but she wouldn't know unless he admitted to that.

"You hate your mother don't you? The way you were looking at her was so...mean." He said instead of answering her properly.

"No different from the look you gave your father." She was right, she got him there.

"You're strange." He said still dodging answering what she'd asked.

"I could say the exact same to you.

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><p><strong>Nyan, Done, I'm about to die. I've been sitting here since around four with the only break when I ate dinner, It's 9:19. I'm about to die.<strong>

**Reviews will be appreciated more than you know and shall help with me sanity.**

**Thanks for reading**.

**Jya ne,**

**~Serah Villiers Valentine**


	4. proposal

**(4,309 words, longest one yet) Ugh, I watched a korean horror movie, I don't think I'm going to get to sleep tonight, I was scared taking a shower because I was alone. I'm stupid aren't I? Downloaded something that took 11 hours and I'm probably never going to watch it again (wasted plenty of broadband I bet) Damn light for downloading it, i should have just watched it on Youtube. But anyway don't worry about me and my future sleepless night right after a night I stayed up to three, enjoy my little puppy.**

**Disclaimer: i no own ff, i just wish i did (because then Serah would be mine)**

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><p>Fang groaned as the maid adjusted her dress, it was in the middle of creme and white and wasn't the style she fancied. She wasn't one for extravagance and this dress was the embodiment of it. She did her best not to let her obvious annoyance make it too obvious. Didn't want to scare the slaves, not like they were scared her or nothing; but it was known on not so common occasions that she could lose her temper pretty badly. She actually got along with the darker skinned people than others, found them less racist, considering their circumtances being racist was no more than being a hypocrite.<br>Most of her fathers slave were actually aware of her secret, some saw that it was a problem, like a mental illness, and some didn't care. They each had their differances, she was just like them in that way, even if for her it was something possible to hide. She got a better life because of that, some were envious, some hated it; a few accepted what life had given them and aknowledged that they couldn't change it. Though despite everything, Vanille had always gotten along with them far better. If you excluded Fang they were the ones that hated it the most what her own father had done to her; making her live in a mental hospital for something that didn't even count as insanity, it didn't even go near it.

She was glad when the maid had finished, so she could be let go. She hadn't wanted to change her dress because in her mind it had already been fine, but no her mother insisted she change into something more suitable for the party. The same party she didn't want to go to, she didn't have a interest in that type of thing. Her mother found her weird for it, but why did she need to care? She was weird.

When she got out of her room Cid greeted her near the door, he had been forced to wait while she changed, he hadn't gone off to do another thing to pass the time because frankly there was no other 'thing'.

"Heh, nice dress." He joked, not meaning it as a compliment at all.

"Oh, most boys would be nicer about it. Why are you still mad about what happened before anyway?" She complained with her hands on her hips.

"Are you so stupid that your mind can't comprehend why I am still angry?"

"No I understand I'm just not use to you acting this way. You're usually nothing like this." She continued her complaining.

"Well aware considering we do happen to be talking about me." He pivoted around after replying.

"Hey!" She yelled at him, "Where are you going?" She folded her arms and raised her eyebrow.

He looked slightly back at her but not fully turning back around, "It's starting soon, I best be getting back to my parents. You've seen my mother angry, it's not something I'd like to deal with if I have a choice." He shrugged and moved over to the curved staircase.

Fang released a sigh pulling her arms closer to her body.

'I hate when people are in a mood, puts me in one,' she thought feeling a little iritated by her friend's bad mood. She flicked the strand of hair that was stubbornly keeping its place in front of her eye and wondered what she would do until the time she had to leave. All the while a grand idea forming in her head.

A smirk crept onto her face, "Wonder if he'd say 'yes' to such a crazy idea?" She said to herself, before going down the hallway to see if it was possible to find something to pass the time.

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><p>Fang's mother Awana brushed out stray locks from her face as they sat down in the carriage. She gave her a small smile, not a happy one, but not sad.<p>

"Sometimes I wish your hair would do as it's told." She sighed moving her hands away and sitting straight next to her daughter. She saw her father roll his eyes at his wife's comment, he had the same problem with his hair.

"Don't we all?" She said as a reply. No she didn't care, but she could lie to her mum and say she wished for the same. Her hair wasn't going to do as she wanted, it would do as it wanted to do and she wouldn't have a choice. Just like always.

"Yeah, don't we all." Her mother concluded and brushed some of her hair behind her ear. They were so different it wasn't funny, if it wasn't for the thick Pulsian accents you would not see a connection between the two woman, they didn't even have a resemblance. Sure they both had green eyes, but even they weren't the same shade.

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><p>The carriage pulled up at the entrance of the Farron's mansion. Her father stepped out first as the door was opened and took her mother's hand to assist her with getting out. He held out his hand to her afterwards but she declined it and climbed out herself without his help. She struggled with it seeing as she was in heels but she managed. He moved to the side to let her get her feet properly on the ground. She could see up the steps was a man and woman greeting each person as they walked in. When her and her parents came up to them the couple held out their hand in greeting just as they had done to everyone else. It didn't take a genius to figure out who they were, they were master Farron and his wife. She took note of his dark brown hair and her startling blonde hair. From what Fang had heard they had two daughters, with a much more perculiar colour, from seeing their parents she wondered how they had ended up with such a colour.<p>

Inside the house it was lit up with a great shining silver chandelier hanging from it's position on the roof. The whole room was caught up in it's golden shine, it made for quite the sight. The furniture was positioned on the sides of the room; it consisted of black leather lounges with golden edges and tables drapped in colourful silk made to match with the colour scheme of the rest of the room. She was impressed, That Farron woman really went out of her way to make things perfect this time.

Fang took a look around when her parents left her to converse with a couple of friends they had not seen in a long time. She had doubts she'd recognise any of the guests, she used to spend parties chugging down all the food laid out on the lavish tables with Vanille, even though the redhead didn't eat very much on comparision to her. She missed her sister's company, now this was so boring without her by her side; a lot of things were boring without that girl, try life for example.

She tried her best to keep her thoughts from having an obvious outward effect on her, she didn't want the people that surrounded her asking her what was up. This wasn't her crowd, she wasn't antisocial but she was determined to keep herself quiet around them.

When she looked around again she spotted a minute amount of people that she recognised, most whose names were currently forgotten. She spotted out the group of young women that on many occasions had tried to make her apart of the little group of theirs, she had always been annoyed by their prissy manners and actions. She had gotten sick of them in their first encounter, which did happen to be when she was seven. After them she spotted who she was sure was the Farron's youngest daughter, chatting to a ever growing group of boys. Two stood especially close, it was clear that she knew them well in one way or another. On seeing her a thought passed through the raven haired woman's mind,

'So where exactly is the other one?' but she was quick to leave that thought in the dust, from what she had heard about the older Farron there was not much point in bothering about things related to her. She was 'different' as it had been put by so many. Without actually knowing the girl, or even what she looked like for that matter she liked her for it. Her mind was going in the wrong place for the word 'different' she knew, but at least it meant that she wasn't the only one here that wasn't like all the other morons.

She shook her head, subconsciously she was getting her hope up over something pretty damn stupid. She decided if she was going to do anything it would be to hunt out Cid, that would pass the time.

As she circled the room she kept out a eye for him, growing increasingly impatient, being near this lot of people made her feel like she was getting stupider by just simply the exposer to them all. She released a loud sigh of relief the moment she spotted that dark hair of his. She'd atracted some attention to herself from it but she couldn't really care much for it. She ran over to him at a brisk pace, as she neared closer she began flapping her arm up and down as a greeting and also to get his attention. This didn't actually work until she was right near him, and it wasn't him that noticed, it was Rygdia. The man waved back to her and that was when Cid finally looked up to see her walking over to the duo.

"Why, hello there Fang, so how you been doing?" Rygdia spoke first with a hint of a laugh in his voice.

"Well just dandy Mr messy hair of utter messyness." She joked as she stopped beside them and she folded her hands behind her in a kind of mock politeness to the two boys.

"Hey!" Rygdia yelled pointed a hand straight at her, "Your hair is a mess too! And you're a girl!"

"I know," She ran a hand through the black locks, "But I don't have a choice unlike you, it grows like this." She chuckled from the defeated look she recieved from her comment.

And rolled her eyes with a laugh, it was common for her and Rygdia to get into 'fights' if you could call them that. She usually won, she was plainly better at it. She switched her gaze from the man in front of to the one sitting on the leather lounge besides them.

"And how are you going?" She forced a smile, not expecting him to be in a good mood as he had been in a bad one thanks to her not so long ago.

"Better." Cid said in a forced tone.

She tried to keep up her fake smile, he was still angry whether he was admitting to it or not.

At this moment did Rygdia tweak onto something being wrong between the two, so to state the obvious he asked,

"So, something happen with you two?" He asked clearly innocent of the truth, his curiousity only heightening from the sudden looks his friend gave him.

"Fang, shut up and leave."Cid shot out immediately and made the woman jump,

"Oh don't be like that, he knows about me and doesn't give a shit about it!"

Now that comment peaked his curiosity,

"Oh, now you have to tell me." It would have sounded like a command if he had not broke out laughing half way through the sentence,

"No." Was Cid's reply,

"Just not in such a crowded place." Was Fang's, causing a bad look from the one sitting down.

"No you drunk puppy you are not telling him. and that's that alright?" Hoping to dear Etro that she'd listened to him for once.

But the moment she put her hands on her hips and gave him her best 'Fang' smile did he know for sure that it would not be so,

"I've told him some 'fun' stuff before, today's no different." She smiled evily and took his arm, tugged him off the chair and pulled him with her. As she did so she signalled for the other to follow them along to her yet unknown destination.

* * *

><p>She looked either side of the door then shut them inside the small room. She'd led them down a people-less hallway, away from prying ears so no one would overhear this conversation.<p>

"So can you tell me what happened now?" Said Rygdia from his position sitting on an old chair in the corner.

It looked like this room was not in use at the moment, chairs and tables lay scattered about covered in dust . No one was in this part of the house, the kitchens were down another hallway, and food would have been the main reason for anyone to be travelling down them. For the things that the men do when they go off by themselves and smoke only talking to other men, usually such meetings happened in a library, from her own memories on that subject they did. That too was down another hallway. This place was the best spot to talk and to have no one eavesdropping.

"Fine I'll tell you." She said finally to the waiting man behind her. She took a seat next to Cid, who had his head on his palm, she was about to open her mouth but was stopped by his free hand covering her mouth.

"To be honest I would seriously rather you keep quiet about it." He ordered her, despite knowing her well enough that she was intent on saying it, and when Fang was intent on it you knew all attempts were rendered futile.

She moved his hand away from her, but kept a strong grip on it in the case of a repeat.

"Look, Cid, he's a friend, he's not going to judge you for it." She told him truthfully, he could hear it her voice, and hoped to the goddess she wasn't trying to trick him.

"..." He didn't reply, but she had a feeling he'd believed her this time.

"So what is it Cid doesn't want you saying so much?" Rygdia spoke up breaking the feeling of the moment.

Fang turned her attention back on him after staring at Cid for an extra second.

"That I saw him kissing one of my father's slaves." She stated and waited for him to react.

"Whheewww," He whistled, "That probably took a lot of guts considering what could have happened if Master Oerba found you instead of Fang." He breathed in clearly forcing back a laugh, "Didn't know you liked that kind of stuff."

By now Cid's face had turned to a very deep red.

"It didn't really have anything to do with apperances or anything...I just...really like..."  
>He failed to finish the sentence so Fang made sure to do it for him,<p>

"Him." She nodded her head to the side with a grin, no-one was sure if she was taking this seiously or not.

"Him?" Rygdia was taken aback by the last part, but wasn't disgusted by any bit. "He kissed a guy?"

Cid's face was not any better, if anything it was worse.

"Yeah, I Really didn't know you were into that kind of thing," He put extra emphasis on the really. I knew about Fang's like for woman, but I had no idea you were on the same team." He shrugged.

"Wait you knew?"

"Yeah," He said it like he had been asked a very silly question. "I thought it was obvious."

"Not for me..." He flopped his head back down.

"Not all things are." Fang stiffled a laugh while giving him a pat on the back.

"One thing though," She began, "What do you see in guys, I don't get it."

"Me neither," Rygdia added.

"'Cause not." Cid rolled his eyes at both of the two who he just happened to be stuck in a room with.

"I mean, seriously woman are like all awesome and curvy and bouncey..."She stopped describing when Cid gave her a look.

"And guys are like...like a stick." She finished, recieving another roll of the eyes.

"You like them or you don't, stop questioning me."

"Fine fine,"She waved her hands and stood up moving for the door.

"Hey where are you going?" Cid asked from the seat.

"Back, if my mother can't see me she'll start to worry, you best come with."

"Yes, right." Him and Rygdia followed her back through the door.

* * *

><p>Instead of going back to being stuck in the crowd they sticked near the edge, there was a small alcove, open to the rest of the area. It had the appearance of a small libarary, it was filled with books and a couple chairs on the side. It was in clear view of everything else but far enough away from everyone that everything they said wouldn't be overheard.<p>

Rygdia's face was stuck in a permenent grin, what he'd been told not so long before had come as a shock, he had never expected Fang to say that to him. Most people would have been disgusted by it and thought that Cid had a serious problem, but him...he was laughing about it. Much to Cid's dismay. Who constantly begged for assistence from the girl next to him, but her mind was preoccupied by something else.

Her gaze was directed out to the crowd, focussing on something neither behind her could see. She had gotten bored somewhere in their conversation and looked out at the people chatting to each other non stop. She'd spotted a glimpse of not so normal hair, she knew that it had deepened under the rooms golden light, but she couldn't help but be reminded of her sister. The hair she'd seen for only a second was wavy, but not so much as her sister's. It was so stupid to be thinking about Vanille right in this moment, she bet that the person she had seen didn't look like her sister at all.

"Fang!" Rygdia's voice snapped her out of her trance. She looked over to him to see what he wanted to say, but found it was nothing more than him asking,

"Are you alright? You look like your mind's somewhere else." She looked up dazed at the two men waiting for an answer.

"Maybe..I am" She mumbled, quiet enough that Rygdia, the futherst away, didn't even here it.

Suddenly her legs forced her upwards, she was still not all in the moment, but she knew what she wanted to do; she wanted to see if she could find that person she'd seen only moments before. She dashed out of the alcove leaving Cid and Rygdia to wonder what she was doing at all.

She moved about each person, being careful not to smash into another that was moving around. The colours swirled in her head as she twisted and turned frantically, not even knowing what she was searching for. Why was she doing this? what was the point? Why had her feet just moved on their own?

She ran a hand through her messy locks, she could feel sweat on her forehead. What was wrong with her, chasing after nothing, damn her mind had gone somewhere completely different from where it truly was. She sighed leting out her emotions, she felt a bead of sweat fall down of her head and land on the creme collar of her dress, yes stupid her.

From being stuck in her thoughts she didn't notice someone running past her, at the last second she made the attempt to dodge, getting her shoulder hit hard by the shoulder of another. That other stopped not far from her to catch her breath. From Fang's position she saw a side on view of the woman. She was wearing a black and burgundy dress, crimpled at the bottom. Blondish-pink hair rested on her shoulder, strands reaching out and sticking to her pale neck. Bright cerulean eyes shown out from her face, glisterning in the light.

Fang found herself stuck in place staring at her with her heart beating fast and a speeding pulse sounding in her ears. She didn't have to be a genius to know it was the mysterious woman that rooted her to the spot. Even with sweat covering her and hair messed up falling from the ribbon that was now only partially tied to her hair, she was beautiful. Fang didn't know how else to descibe it, she was a stunning woman, and she herself was...mesmorised.

She would have stared forever if the woman hadn't run away from the spot, and a hand hadn't touched her shoulder, snapping her away from her trance. Looking away she saw Cid standing behind her, he looked concerned.

"What are you doing?" He asked voice tinted with worry,

Fang looked down, then back to the spot she'd seen the woman, finally before returning them to Cid.

"I'll tell you when I know myself." She shrugged, moving away from a now confused Cid, who after a second continued after her.

A thought that had been circulating hours before returned in this moment, now was a good as time as any to say it, especially now when she knew she had more reason to than ever before.

* * *

><p>Fang returned to the room they had been in before she'd dashed off, finding Rygdia was not in there. She looked back to see Cid following after her, but no one else was close to her besides him at the moment. Good.<p>

"Hey Cid?" She said quietly as he entered and sat down on a chair.

"Yeah?" He looked at her suspiciously, she wasn't acting right right now, it was so...un-Fang like.

"I have been thinking about something, I only came up with it today, so forgive me if it sounds crazy." She was rubbing her arm and looking down to the ground feeling obvious uncertainties about whatever she wanted to say.

Cid looked at her as directly in the eye he could from his position, something was off about her.

"Only today? What is it?" He couldn't figure out what had Fang acting this way.

"Well...Will you...um" She struggled to get the words out of her mouth, something was quite definately wrong.

Cid continued to watch her with a waiting expression, for the moment when she got the words out of her mouth.

Fang bit down on her tongue, herself annoyed by how she couldn't get herself to say it. She scrunched up her fists tightly before forcing her mouth to open and say what she wanted to,

"Will you marry me?" She breathed in sharply right afterwards, for holding it in while she couldn't.

Cid looked up at her in disbelief, hardly believing what she had just asked of him. It made sense now why she had had such troubles in saying it, but what it was was just unbelievable.

"Wha..?" He couldn't say a word else. Shock had more than overtaken him.

"Think about it," The raven haired woman yelled at him, "You know that if neither of us get married our parent will force us, you know that don't you!" She stated in a panicking voice, "We would be forced into doing things that we won't want to do because of it, so why not? That way if we do we wouldn't have to live our lives that way."

Cid still looked unsure, she had made a good point, a very good one to be exact. But he was still having troubles getting his mind over what was going on in this very moment. What he choose to do in this moment would change his life, no matter what was his answer. Goddess was he glad that Rygdia wasn't here right now.

"Don't keep me waiting."Fang gripped his hands tightly,

He looked at her directly in the eye, she was dead serious about all of this, that part was clear.

He closed his eyes, making his decision at the last second, "Yes."

Little did they know, that Rygdia was right around the corner listening to the entire conversation.

* * *

><p><strong>Done yay, by the way if any one is insane enough to be interested in the south Korean supernatural horror movie I watched in the morning and is still shaking from, it's called White: The melody of the curse.<strong>

**I'm listening to English music to calm my nerves, Popasia is temporally creepy.**

**Thanks for 16 reviews and 2,092 hits. This story owns all my others in popularity**

**Read, review and all that stuff, hope you liked.**


	5. Breaking apart

**(7,163 words) I'm sorry for no updates, but well maybe considering that this is the longest chapter yet might semi make up for it. My obssessive need to explain means I need to give you an explanation for why the wait has been longer than usual. First I skipped this when I got up to it in my loop so I could finish my other story because I was up to the last chapter for it, then I took a brake from fanfiction which in the end actually only lasted two and a half days (yes I failed at having a brake) Then I started rewriting another story because it is my favourite out of all of them but the starting sucked so I knew no one would give it a chance. I made myself write the first five chapters, sadly no one is reading it and I'm all depressed about it, so if any one wants to be nice because it certainly has it's brilliant moments it is called wings of Regret. I know most of you aren't going to bother reading it, it is a dark story any one that does decide to read it, just a warning. After I finished up with that I got right ahead to writing this because despite it not being next in the loop it was the longest since it had been updated. First day I couldn't get myself to write so I only wrote three pages, same for the next day, but then I got stuck into this and finished it. While all that I went to the easter show and had lunch with my uncle who hasn't seen me since I was eleven. So that was something that took me away from writing. Then I was going to get my beta reader to edit but I got bored waiting and made my sister do it and went over it myself so as to double check. So apologies for any mistakes. (Holy crap I have an Oathkeeper Keyblade necklace that I've wanted this year six I think)**

**Enjoy my darling fans.**

**Disclaimer: Screw this it has no point**

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><p><span>5) breaking apart<span>

* * *

><p>Claire sat at the dinning table. The party had come and gone, it had been the topic of the conversation that her mother and Serah were having; it may have drifted to others things but she kept her mind far from it. Such converations like the one the other two woman were having weren't one that could hold her interest and were in the most simplest of terms ones that bored her greatly. She was actually more interested in what her father and his colleages talked about, bussiness was a more entertaining topic than parties and such gatherings. The men that visited from time to time, either for leisure reasons or to talk bussiness were quite surprised by what knowledge she did have. Many times her father had had a talk to her about his work and she had soaked up the information like a sponge. The men like many did say she was certainly different, but these few men said so not for her being so unlady like and harsh, but that she understood what was not something usually well known by woman at all, and so well to add to that.<p>

Claire looked up from her half eaten breakfast to her mother and little sister, they had long since finished their meals and had it so been taken away by a servant, so now they were left with nothing but to talk. Their constant chatter was an annoyance, and she was made to live with this daily; and oh that grin her father gave her every morning didn't help, it made her think he found her suffering funny. How no one but him had noticed how her family's chatter annoyed her so was a mystery, she did nothing to hide it.

She picked up snippets everynow and then but from forcing herself to be mute from it it sounded like nothing more like two birds squabbling to each other. That made sense when it came to her mother but the fact that her dear little sister's voice succssessfully mixed into it was something to confuse her.

A thought plopped into her head then, one that made her stomach plummet. She remembered how it was nearing Serah's sixteenth birthday. The most horrid thing about that was, that was the legal age to get married. She knew how her sister had feelings for that idiot tank Snow, she wouldn't wait much when she got of that age before she would decide to marry him. What did Serah see in him? He was an arrogant moron! Sure he was one of the very few men that realised that woman were people not objects she gave him that, but that wasn't her problem, her problem was just simply him. And the fact that her parents were fine with it all just iritated her more.

"Are you okay young miss?" A gentle voice asked from besides her, she turned her head and faced the small woman, Butterfly was looking at her with a questioning expression.

"Yes, I'm fine." she said as poilte as she could muster.

The black woman cracked a smile, not a happy one but one for the sake of looking nice.

"That's good, I was just wondering because you weren't eating your food."

"I'm fine," The older one said stopping her mid sentence by shaking her head, "I'm just not very hungry."

"Oh is that so? Well I can clean this up for you?"

"Yes that'd be fine." She answered. Claire stayed silent as Butterfly picked up the plate and cleaned the area around it. She didn't get up herself before the girl had left, she gave a nod in her mother's direction before leaving the room. She knew she was meant to ask for permission to be excused but she had long dropped that habit, it was a rarity when she did do it. And the few times she did was when her father was there, and at the moment that man was not even in the room.

She found him in his office, looking through a bunch of papers on his desk. he looked ever so slightly flustered at the moment. She didn't want to surprise him by rudely walking in considering she may not be allowed right now, so she knocked on the door gently. He looked up after a second to see her curious face leaning in.

"Ah, Light." He said quickly before returning to what he was doing.

She had taken it that he may be busy at the moment but he had no problem with her presence, otherwise he would have shooed her off then and there.

"What are you searching for?" She eyed the cluttered desk.

"A contract to be honest. I've been given the rights to a small company in Palumpolum. I decided now was the best time to sign it considering.." He stopped himself right there, but his daughter wasn't going to let him do so,

"Considering..?" She questioned.

He looked at her unsteadedly for a minute,

"I can tell you later darling, it's important so I want everyone else to hear it. At dinner I promise." He nodded and went back to searching, doing his best to hold up his end of the conversation.

"So did you enjoy the party?" He asked with a hint of a laugh.

He missed his daughter rolling her eyes, but certainly heard her laugh.

"I thought that would already be obvious."

He chuckled as he lifted up a pile of sheets, "I know I know. But was there anything different at all?"

Claire sat down on a chair near his desk before making any kind of a reply,

"If you counted that boy I was talking to." She shrugged.

Her father stopped what he was doing, "Boy?"

She rolled her eyes again, "Don't get your hopes up. He was the Estheim's kid, isn't he like ten or something?"

"Eleven I think it was if you're being exact. Shame there is such an age difference, could have had something there." He laughed picking up a piece of paper which she predicted was what he was looking for.

"Can't expect any miracules with me father." She smiled.

He shook his head and cleared his table for the space he needed.

"I know. But keep in mind that if you don't attempt to look your mother will do it for you. She's not going to stand having a daughter live without ever having a man in her life." He informed her sternly. His voice had gone deathly serious, his gaze looking down at her.

"I realised that long ago. But can't she give up? Why does the idea of me not having a husband have to be impossible to her?"

"The idea of dying alone sounds sad to anyone Light, try to understand your mother's point of view." He paused and studied her expression. knowing well enough what she was thinking right this second.

"You don't want her picking one out for you. Such things never end well, I'm only looking out for you here but trust me on it." He finished and returned his focus to the contract he was completing.

Claire remained there in silence, sound only coming from the scribbling of his pen and their steady breathing.

"Father?" He paused and looked up, "You know that that kid is the only male in my memory that I have talked to out of my own free will that wasn't you or a slave. I don't doubt that mother is going to resort to finding a husband for me herself, because I know that I won't take one step to help."

Silence over took them for a second more, "I've always known that Light."

"I was hoping that having one married would make her want for me to be lessen, but I was wrong. I know that's not going to happen, instead she'll just be angry having the younger married and the older single, it will only speed it up." Her hands clung to the sides of the chair, this almost agitated her the way her mother acted.

"She's a predictable woman sometimes, I believe that will be the way she acts after Serah gets married." He sighed outwardly, "That won't be far off now, she's almost sixteen after all."

Claire watched the man from in front of his desk. She wondered how it felt having the fact that his children truly weren't children anymore running through his head was like.

"I can even bet that she'll throw a nice big party for her on the day too, shame she can't go all out like the last one. We need to put a cap on spending somewhere." He shrugged, dotting down words on the paper from which Claire could not make out.

"Mother's parties are stupid and useless." She spat.

Her father looked up at her again, "They are a celebration where you can socialise with friends, for her they have a use. I'm sorry if they hold none for you."

"I just see it as idiotic, she finds the littlest of reasons and throws a party over it."

"I don't see the last one as a little reason, in no way was it one." He cut in.

Something about this all just made Claire want to roll her eyes, but she resisted for the sake of it all. Her father was right about one thing, the last party had not been for a small reason. Her father owned two gold mines on the outskirts of Bodhum, one of which had struck the motherload. So it goes without saying that her mother got over excited and that was the whole reason behind her last party. She didn't see the reason as stupid, just simply the party and that was all.

"I'm going to go now." She spoke up, she wasn't in the mood to continue the conversation.

"That's fine, I've only got a little more to do here, I might as well finish it as fast as I can. And I didn't forget about the thing I almost said before, don't worry, I'll talk about it over dinner."

"That's fine," She said as she stood up. she gave her father a small wave and exited his office.

* * *

><p>As Claire found boredom over taking her she soon ended up at her usual place, the stone bench beneath the trees. She could see a number of slaves working in the fields, and had a partly obscurried view of the ones near the stables. They were nicer people than her mother for sure, they worked so hard even when they were given nothing but a semi comfortable bed and less than decent food. That woman could never live like that, for her extravagance was a need to live. It was sickening some people, how they could see themselves as so much better than the people with dark skin just because they were different to them in apperance, saying it out loud just pointed out the stupidity. The people that valued themselves as better couldn't lift a finger to help themselves, and the ones suposedly worse could do so much more than they ever could.<p>

She sighed outwardly and layed down on the bench, she had ranted about it to that boy on the night of the party. She was surprised how he had just sat there and listened, most would find fault in almost everything she said and complain at some point, but if anything he had agreed with her. A part of her wished he was older, she knew she couldn't like him in that way even if he was older, but there was a strange similarity about them and if she had the choice he was the better one for that fact only. At least it would get her mother off her back, but he came off as so weak it was an annoyance. Before she had ran into him at the current place she sat at he had clung to his mother the entire time, she knew he was young but even that was bordering on the ridiculous. Still, he had been better company than what the many others at that party would have been like.

The wind blew softy past her as one thought left and a new one replaced it. It was so subtle and serene here, it was hard not to be tempted by the idea of sleeping. She fought against it of course, to fall asleep here was not a good idea, her back was to used to the comforts of her expensive bed and so the stone beneath her would cause her to wake up with horrible aches. Still she gave herself the comforts of at least shutting her lids, but did not let the shadows and dreams take her away. Eventually her mind got stuck on the conversation with that boy again, and she failed at any and all attempts of getting it out.

* * *

><p>Her mind was back at that night he had ran into the little boy, when she had found him sitting on the dirty stone bench.<p>

_"Aren't you Nora's son?" She asked, even if she had no need to ask that question as she already knew it._

_He raised his head noticing her for the first time,_

_"Um, yeah...How long have you been there?" He sounded like he was about to panic. Couldn't blame the kid if he was scared of her, so was everyone else._

_"Not long, I just got here." She explained. "How long have you been here?" She asked the same question._

_"I don't know, Since dad came back to talk to us. I left cause I didn't want to talk to him."_

_That look of anger she'd spotted before came back to his eyes for a second. _

_"Do you hate your father?" She questioned, feeling curious._

_"What why do you think that?" He sounded like he was lying as he said that. Trying to not have to answer what she'd asked._

_Claire took some steps closer, and took a seat next to him on the bench. Partly because she needed to sit down, partly so she could get out of the rain, under this tree it was so thick leaved that not much rain could get through. She was getting sick of her hair clinging to her like it was. He eyed her as she did it, but then looked away, he appeared to be scared at the moment. Maybe he was scared of her, but she wouldn't know unless he admitted to that._

_"You hate your mother don't you? The way you were looking at her was so...mean." He said instead of answering her properly._

_"No different from the look you gave your father." She was right, she got him there._

_"You're strange." He said still dodging answering what she'd asked._

_"I could say the exact same to you._

_A silence passed, but was quickly interupted when he said,_

_"I have a name you know."_

_She looked down, remember that she had indeed simply called him 'Nora's son' before._

_"Hope, wasn't it." She lifted her hand to catch a falling leaf, he watched her do it curiously before making any reply._

_"Yes, what's is yours?" He tried sounding polite to her. Of course she mentally sniggered, because she is a lady no doubt._

_"Claire, and stop speaking like that."_

_"But..."_

_"No buts, it's annoying." He fliched at the sound of her voice and lowered his head. Yep he was scared of her, but she wasn't sure whether she should care. It was only a kid they were talking about here_

_"Most girls wouldn't say that."_

_"but I'm not 'most girl's now am I?" She questioned in a growl. Out of the corner of her eye she could swear he had flinched again._

_"You know you're name is unfitting." He spoke up after becoming silent for a few minutes._

_Claire hid her expression so he didn't see that she was peeved by the broken stillness. "This from a boy with a girl's name."_

_"Hey that's not my.." He started but she stopped him._

_"You can call me Lightning then."_

_He stared blankly, "Light..ning?" Obviously taken aback by the the suddeness of what she said and for sincerely the name she had chosen._

_"It fits better doesn't it?" She grinned, _

_"The way you're talking is making me think this isn't the first time you've asked someone to call you this." He started mumbling. she took a guess that he was more saying it to himself than to her, but she gave it an answer none the less._

_"Because it isn't, I created it years ago but clearly no one would dare call the eldest daughter of one of Pulse's richest men by such a name. It's just preposterous right?" She tilted her head towards him, waiting for a response._

_"I guess that all makes sense, but." He eyed her with a near serious expression. "Why the name 'Lightning'?"_

_"Well," she sighed straightning out her legs. "Because I feel like I've got something in common with it. I can't help anybody with anything, I'm a pampered little rich girl in all honesty and I don't even have talents in what little talents such woman do have. And what I do I know because I'm a woman that is never going to help me in life. If I was to ever try and fix a problem, undoubtedly I will make it worse._

_'Lightning can't protect, it can only destroy. I just guess I'm the same way." She shrugged at the end, it seemed to him she had thought about this many times before, it wasn't much to her anymore._

_"You really don't think you could be helpful to anyone?"_

_"I cause more trouble than help people fix such things. Trust me I just can't. My parents even stick people to me to make sure I'm not getting into some kind of mess. Currently the one with that job is a sixteen year old named Butterfly.."_

_"Butterfly?" he interjected with a question._

_"No weirder than Lightning, but than again her's is her real name. I guess it makes for a strange one." She laughted lightly._

_She talked on and on, about her mother always finding some reason to yell at her, how even the slaves would look down on her. She even mentioned how she had memorised what before mentioned slave's jobs was on what days so she could purposely elude her. She said how at parties when she walked past she overheard almost everyone saying some kind of spiteful thing about her, and how it was never true. How her life had gotten her into such a bad mood when her sister tried to help it always ended in the poor girl being sent from the room in tears, even if she had only tried to be good. _

_She didn't know how long she talked for, but she found she couldn't stop. So on and on she went with the occasional question or comment from Hope, but otherwise he was silent. And before she knew she had just poured her heart out to a total stranger, but he didn't look down on her like other people would, she had been so scared that was what would happen in the end. It was at that point that he could quite possibly not do a thing that could confuse her more. _

_In the silence that followed his gaze lingered over to the direction of the house, and for the first time in a long time did he take into consideration where he was. He jumped off the seat and bowed his head at the startled woman in front of him._

_"I'm sorry...Lightning, but I think my mother's probably worried sick by now, I should get back." _

_She smiled at the direction the kid had taken. As strange as she had found it she had gotten herself lost in her own little world then, with someone she barely new no less. Time and place hadn't mattered at all, she hadn't had a time like it since Serah once came here with her. But that had all stopped before she had reached the age of ten, it had been sorely missed. _

_Claire lifted herself from the bench, she decided it would be best to return around now. Lord oh lord her mother was going to go balistic when she saw her._

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><p>Serah's sixteenth birthday was coming up fast, their mother made paparations for a new party and got the slaves right into action. Because of the previous one they had a tighter cap on money and she did not have the choice to make it beyond amazing like the last one had been. It was Serah herself who made her mother not go nuts when it came to the guests lists, she would prefer it to be people she knew who were invited to the party. Sadly fot her sister this was still a staggering amount of people, she was a popular little lady.<p>

At least the younger one of those two knew one when to stop before things went overboard. She may be a pampered rich girl but she couldn't even compare to her mother, that woman was just too much.

She was like a more subtle version of her, Claire guessed just slightly she had been influenced by her big sister. If she hadn't she would be a mirror of her mother but she clearly wasn't. Serah would never do what a man told her to do because she thought she had to, much unlike their mother, she would only do it if she wanted to. Bad thing was her and that oaf Snow could agree on a lot, she loved him too much for her own good.

That question of what did she see in him was a constant thought for the eldest sister, Serah was a smart girl, especially when it came to academics. All the tutors she had had all been amazed to see such brightness in a girl, one or two had even decided to teach her some subjects reserved for boys because they had thought girl's weren't smart enough to understand, but she had surpassed most of their male students on said subjects on occasions. She was great when it came to advice as well, she always knew what to say, sometimes her sister wished she had just taken it instead of being stubborn and doing the opposite. Maybe some things would be better if she had done that. So why was someone who was so smart ready to give up their life so early on for a total and utter moron?

It didn't make any sense what so ever, and all it did was make her angry, her sister deserved better than a loser like that. Anyone deserved better than him. She was beggining to fill sick thinking about it she was so pissed over it. The thought about her sister nearing the legal age to actually get married wasn't helping her at all, she knew they wouldn't wait long, heck it wouldn't surprise her if they chose to get engaged the second they were able to.

This was all giving Claire a headache worring over it, but she knew her mind wouldn't let the matter rest. She was far too gone into a sour mood to get out now.

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><p>The inevitible party came quicker, much quicker than Claire would have ever wanted. It didn't look as lavish as the last one had been but considering her mother had overlooked the peparations it was anything but plain. Tables decorated in pale pink and saphire blue were absolutely covered in plates and plates of expensive food. Ribbons of said colours decorated around the whole of the ball room. Every light was on showing its full glory. It was hard believing this was not the most her mother could do, and far from it at that.<p>

When guests began arriving, she did her usual of hiding in the corner. As always she was not in the mood to converse with any one of them. And currently all she felt like doing to Snow was giving him a nice little punch in the face, that feeling had not left. She spotted who she recognised as Serah's friends, as odd as it was not many actually happened to be girls, most were indeed boys. She wasn't very boyish but she got along with them better because as her older sister had figured out most girls were too jealous of her to be nice to her. Stupid idiots.

When all had arrived, they took seats at the table and had a feast of a dinner. Everyone chattered away to eachother joyfully. Claire may have well been the only one that had stayed silent through it all. She sat between her father and Serah herself, to her father's side was her mother and to Serah's it was Snow. Who nearby she had many friends all sitting quite close. Her sister at some point stopped attempting to hide her annoyance at Serah and Snow's close proximately. Usually at parties the relatives would sit together, but seeing as they all had a serious lack of them, Serah was able to have her friends so close. Claire barely ate one bit of the food that layed out in front of her, all what she was feeling had made her feel less than hungry. She honestly felt like if she took another bite she would start to feel sick.

After the dinner slaves had rushed about cleaning off the tables and moving them across to the wall. She spotted her mother giving a quick scolding to Butterfly, the poor girl had fallen over flat onto her stomach while helping some others push the table. She looked rightly scared by the older woman, the observer didn't blame her. The young girl was always getting yelled at for the smallest mistakes, she had grown up with it, and it had resulted with her being easy to scare. When each table had been moved, more came out with platters of food and placed them there in case of any still possibly being hungry. They left as fast as they could and let the activities of the guests resume.

Claire took a seat in a chair, most people were dancing in the middle or nibbling at the morsels on the platters; well she did neither. She could see her parents dancing on the farside of the room, she had to look for awhile before she got a clear view of where her sister had ended up at. She was talking with a group of friends near the back. Noel was currently shoving food in his mouth and she guessed from what it looked like one or two of the others were making a joke about it. Snow and Serah were standing very close to eachother and she could swear they were holding hands.

'i wonder if it's possible to feel deathstares from the other side of the room?' She thought as her glare deepened as she did see that he did indeed have his hand wrapped around hers. She promised herself that she had to be the death of this guy. There could be no other satisfying ways for him to die unless it was by her hands, how dare this guy be with her precious little sister!

A number of girls when they walked past them gave the boys around her coy smiles. She was bored enough to count who got the most, as even from here it was clear that they were being quite honest in who they liked without having to open their mouths. Noel got the most by far, she could swear some girls kept walking back so they could be near him, however short that time did happen to be. Snow actually happened to get the least. She did admit to herself, that sadly it was not because he was a stupid idiotic oaf, but because someone had already beaten them to him. She wished one of those dumb girls had beaten Serah, then she could be with someone better that the blonde moron and those stupid girls could be with some one that also had an IQ the same number as their shoe size.

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><p>Hours went by, but Claire didn't move from her spot. This was always how it was, he couldn't socalise even if she wanted too; not when she was surrounded by a horde of people that despised her or even in some cases were scared of her. By now most everyone had spent some of the time dancing, she wouldn't be surprised if she was the only one who hadn't. Serah and Snow were somewhere near the middle dancing together. If he were closer she would throw something at him and hope to the goddess that she wouldn't miss and hit her sister.<p>

"...Young miss?" A voice snapped herself from her thoughts. she let her mind return to reality and look up at who had asked.

It was one of her father's slaves, a petite middle aged woman with her hair tied up in two pony tails to the back of her head. The style reminded her of a girl she had seen at a party once.

"Oh, Nancy..." she brushed a stray lock from her eyes and the elder woman gave her an apologetic smile.

"Sorry if I'm disturbing you, but would you mind a drink?" She asked in her deep voice.

"Doesn't look like I'm doing anything does it?" She let out a small smile. "A drink's fine."

Nancy smiled back and handed her a small glass. The other didn't care what it was filled with, all she knew was that she was parched and it was a distraction from other things. Before she walked away the woman remembered to mention,

"You shouldn't be calling me by name near this crowd Young miss. They'll think you're crazy."

Claire took a sip of her drink. "Everyone has a name. And I have nothing to worry about, not when they already think I'm some freaky woman."

Nancy made no reply, she had already walked off.

Time still felt like it was flying by, and still she stayed in that same chair, doing not much else but stare and slowly but surely drain her glass of its contents. Many of the men by now were somewhere else, most probably in the library like they usually were. No woman went near any of the areas when they were having their man talks. Most of the time they consisted of bussiness related topics, they didn't expect females to understand one word of it all. Fun part about that was she had a clear remembrance of a time when she was seven when she had been sticking to her father during a party, and he had ended up in one of before mentioned talks. It had been a complicated chat about financial problems, most of which was about bussinesses they had invested in but weren't making enough money to get off the ground and fluroish. She couldn't remember the full thing but she remembered how she had kept up with it entirely and at one point had gone off at one of the men for making such a foolish investment in the first place.

Oh how men doubted woman, the only reason for them being smarter was for the fact they were allowed better education. Serah was plenty smarter than some men she knew. And Claire herself had a better knowledge of bussiness than a good handfull of men did.

Speaking of Serah, where was she? She took a look of the room but did not see her anywhere. Of course than she realised that she may have gone into the other room. Plenty were currently in their and plenty were leaving already so she may have wanted to wish them good bye. After so long Claire finally got out of her seat and did something. She got to the large double doors of the ballroom when she sighted her. Serah was still with Snow, moving closer to the middle of the room. She held a quizzical expression, which made her sister think that Snow was saying such stupid things that he had rendered it impossible for even a smart person to understand. She wasn't far off in truth, he was actually just saying some weird things that were supposed to make no sense on purpose.

Slowly they were making their way to the middle of the room. She couldn't hear a word they were saying but she could see Snow was yet to shut up from all his mouths movements. Serah's expression remained quizzical and curious, she was silent as Snow went on and on. He was gently holding her hand in his, it only annoyed her older sister more as she saw him with her. She could tell more people were beginning to look in their general direction, quieting down so they could hear what was going on. Now that everyone wasn't so chatty near her she made out a word or two from the man. But it was far from enough to hear him properally. Oh Snow and his speeches, a part was glad she couldn't hear it, but her curiousity was peaking and now it was everyone else talking that annoyed her. But everyone was following suit and looking in the couple's direction. Silence was beggining to take over slowly, and for once she did make out an entire sentence. But for her, it was probably the worse thing she could have heard.

Snow took Serah's free hand into his other and had smiled so warmly at her, she returned it with a faint blush to her cheeks.

"Serah, will you marry me?"

The petite girl's eyes looked like they were about to jump out of her head at the words, she was at a lost for words her heart must have been beating so fast in that second. She responded by beaming at him and pulling him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, no words needed to be said for him to know the answer.

Claire did not see this, for she had already left the room; she had run out the second she had heard the words leave his mouth.

She ran down an empty hallway and found an unused room, forcing the door open she stormed inside and sat on a dusty couch which she noticed looked far less dusty than the rest of the room. But she had no need to question this right at the moment, her mind was on far more important matters. Letting her head fall into her hands, she let out anguised tears.

* * *

><p>She had no idea how long she was in there, for all it was worth she didn't care less. It didn't matter whether anyone had even noticed she was gone, or cared to go look. she wanted to be alone more than ever, she needed to let it all out in her own company. Her eyes burned and her head was beginning to hurt from crying so much, she could feel a dull ache in her chest and was getting more tired by the second. But she needed this moment, for more than she'd let out. It wasn't what she had just heard that had made her do this, it was everything, she had had enough. Her life was horrible, hell she was pampered and could have any material good she wanted; but that wasn't what she wanted, not even close. Everyone hated her, people were scared of her. The only one that wanted to help she had sent away by her many times for trying to do what she didn't want.<p>

She heard the door open slowly, she raised her gaze to meet the intruder of her break down, to be met with the one face she never wanted to see again.

"Out!" She yelled at the blonde, partly hiding her face in her hands.

"Hey, you don't have to be like that." Snow said in hopes of her calming down, but without saying it was a failure of an attempt.

"Just get out okay!" She screached and stood up, glaring daggers at him.

He blinked fast when he saw her redened eyes and tear stained face. He hadn't noticed that when he came in, she must have been crying for a long time.

"Look I'm sorry if I upset you, I understand that.."

"What do you understand!" She cut him off screaming at the top of her lungs, "You're are not the one living a life you don't want! Because your life is some freaking fairy tale where Serah is your princess, how are you suposed to understand anything about what I am going through!" Her hands scrunched up in front of her chest, it was beating so fast it was hurting her.

"Look Claire, I want to help you." He begged for he to see his point of view.

"Oh yeah right, no one want's to help a stupid bitch like me. Now leave me alone before I break that face of yours!" She was so pissed all she saw was red.

"I do want to help.."

"I thought I already said to leave me alone!" She stepped closer,

"Claire!"

But that was enough for her, she bawled up her hand and punched him right in his face, he fell of his feet and to the ground, landing with a loud thud. He breathed in sharply and felt his sore cheek. All she did was watch him with flaming eyes.

"Claire!" Another voice broke her out of her rage, and like that was expression changed to one of a scared child as she saw her angry father standing in the doorway.

The man took a step inside, and lowered his gaze from her to Snow,

"Mister Villiers, I reccomend you to return to my other daughter, you have plenty of enough reason too after all. You will get nothing more than what you already have if you continue this conversation. Now leave." He commanded sternly.

Snow slowly rose up, still watching him, he knew it was not he who he was angry with but his stare was very unnerving.

When they were alone he put his gaze back on his daughter's tear stained face.

"Claire..." His expression softened and he pulled her into a hug. He felt her hands grab onto the fabric of his shirt as she continued to cry. She was so much like a lost child at the moment, and he knew all too well why. He could feel his shirt becoming soaked with her tears, it was cold but he let her continue for as long as she needed it.

"Daddy..." She mumbled through the tears, "Yes" he replied pulling away enough so he could see her face. He didn't know if he should be surprised at her calling him what she hadn't since she was a child.

"Remember how you mentioned you had something to say and..."

"And that I didn't say it? I know. I'm sorry but I keep putting it off."

"Why?" She dug her face into his chest again and let her tears fall off her cheeks.

"Because I'm scared to say the truth."

"Father's aren't meant to be scared of anything." she mumbled. He put on a sad smile at her childish comment.

"We are all human Claire, we all have our fears." He stated. "But I'm guessing you want me to tell you what it was."

There was a momentary silence between the two of them before she spoke up, "Yes."

He breathed in deeply before saying anything, "The Pusian army has been losing men recently, and they are in an urgent need for new recruits."

She moved her head away from him, she knew full well where he was going with this, but a voice screamed at the back of her head that it wasn't true.

"I'm one of the 'recruits' they are sending out."

She stared at him with an face so pained it was like she had been stabbed.

It was all breaking apart.

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><p><strong>Ooh hope you all enjoyed (Have any one of you noticed that ffxiii fanfiction writters subsconciously use the word hope more than others?)<strong>

**I finished this chapter half an hour before it was exactly 100 years since Titanic sunk. I feel some how epic about that, explanaton is that I like timing things on certain dates, I had a similar feeling when I published a chap on easter and drew a really awesome picture which is currently on my wall on the 29 of feb.**

**And when it was exactly one hundred since its sinking I was in bed reading a fanfiction, so I was like,**

**Me: Creepy a 100 years ago thousands of people were drowning and dying and here I am reading a fanfic about a pregnant Lightning.**

**It was a weird feeling.**

**The number of reviews is decressing per chapter, It's making my paranoia go crazy. I got eight for the first chapter so it would be nice if I could get a similar number some time soon, it will make my paranoia shut up because it's proof that at least something that I do is not a waste of time.**  
><strong>Thanks to all who have reviewed this story so far, words cannot describe how happy I am about it, <strong>

**Oh and before I forget, if there is any Hope/Light fans reading this, please make your exsistence known. I feel like i'm going to be mauled to death by FLight fans and it is not a nice thought**

**Arigatou gozaimasu for reading**


	6. planning of lies

**(5,187 words) Holy shit fire, I apologise for my lack of updates, I've had this done for a while but the problem this time was no laptop to put it up. For I wrote this on my school laptop (which as I've mentioned before I'm quite sure, that means no fan fiction) because my home laptop was broken, yes broken, a four month old lap top is broken; now I'm sure that the piece of shit was a waste of money. I'm still using my friend to update as I have before for other stories because of it and its stupid brokenness. **

**Anyway, I have some fun things to mention, like mine and my big sister Claire's (seeker of the skies) long and arduous campaign to retrieve her precious Lightning pictures. A while back while she and my friend were out me and my other friend Fang (0erbayunfang) snuck into her room and stole three of the four before putting on mine and Claire's Lolita dresses and had a fabulous day of purer stupidity. Now after some time she figured we were the thieves because she eventually saw through my delightful acting skills that were trying to make it seem that our brother was the culprit. So one day while walking home from school she chased after Fang down her street, I decided not to question and followed them. When I got to Fang's house I was informed Claire was trying to get her pictures back, but Fang had locked us out. All I can say was the campaign included Claire breaking her fence, me dancing with a dog and then doing some moves from random Kpop videos I'd seen. When I got inside I was greeted by the sight of Fang and Claire wrestling, so while they were doing that I snuck into Fangs room (actually I just walked right past them, not sure they even noticed). Because I was her partner in crime I knew where the pictures were located and stole them right back off the wall. Walked right past them a bit fast because they had figured out what was happening, walked out the door picked up my bag and laptop off the veranda and kept walking. Eventually Claire got out of Fang's grasp and got out the door and caught up with me. When she did I turned to her and whispered "Don't ask, but run. Now!" Emphasis on the now part. So she figured I had just gone and stolen Fang's picture of Hope, piece of advice, don't steal pictures from fan girls. Of course despite the running she caught up and we had to hand it back, but all well, mission accomplished. I just know that it is seriously unadvisable to attempt to steal him again, because we'll all die.**

**And I have no idea why I mentioned this but now on to the story.**

**Disclaimer: Look I don't own this I'm just trying to steal the legal rights to Serah, and nothing more; nothing wrong with that right…right?**

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><p><em><strong>Planning's of lies<strong>_

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><p>Fang sat herself down on the small wooden seat. The night of the party had come and gone, but she was yet to even mention to her parents what she had proposed to Cid about. Why? Maybe because she was quite rightly terrified.<p>

This was a serious matter; it couldn't be dealt with just like that. She feared for her father's response in case he believed it was the wrong choice, he was not a man you would want against you, it was as she currently felt…absolutely terrifying. Her mother, regardless of her choice, would be ecstatic and filled with joy. She would want to get ahead with the preparations right away, because she would want to see the ceremony so goddess damn much. That woman was a rush, and apparently she couldn't compare to the Cocoon-heritage woman around here; though from seeing that Farron woman's party that part was way understandable.

At the moment she was in panic mode inside one of the Slaves miniscule houses on the outskirts of the plantation. It was of course Sazh's and his lovely/insane wife Annette's home. She was sleeping at this time as no longer being a young woman and being pregnant at the same time finally was taking its toll. She was wrapped up in about half the blankets they owned, each were thin and old; no way could they be keeping her very warm. Dajh was outside playing with Chocobo Chicks. One of the few things the slaves here owned was a paddock full of Chocobo's and it was the time of the year when the mothers were having their new little babies. The Chocobo's supplied much for them; for children they kept them amused, they could be ridden to pass the time for older slaves (because they were, as her father put it, "horses for poor people,"), and when they got to a certain age most ended up as food. They were quite tasty to be honest, they provided something extra for the slaves who got such small amounts of food most of the time; it was good they were such big creatures so there was plenty to go around. For reasons Fang could not fully get Sazh's young son was obsessed with the yellow birds, it was fun watching him around them. Sazh himself was cooking a stew made from what vegetables and meat he did have. For all what he lacked he could make a good meal when he wanted to, Sazh's cooking was widely known as the best (well widely known as in by all the slaves on the plantation). The best of it would have to be his stew that he was cooking right at the moment. It was said to calm the nerves as its wonderful taste hovered over your tongue, so she was told because at some point that sounded nuts.

He had cooked this up originally for his wife because she loved it so much but he recommended she try some, because maybe it might actually calm her nerves as it was easy to see her mind was just about to fall off some kind of edge. She was in full panic mode and the aging man wasn't one to be able to take seeing his friend in such a way. She had told them her problem, and they had fully understood the reason for such panic. They knew well enough what her parents would be like, it would either merit a terrifyingly cold negative response, or a positive one to a terrifying degree. So to her either way, she was doomed.

Sazh poured a ladle full of the stew into a bowl and handed it to her. The half full bowel shook in her shaky hands. The man gave her a half-hearted smile. Because he was not in her situation, he didn't know what he could do to help. The best thing was helping her calm down so she could get the words out of her mouth when the time came to tell her parents about the marriage proposal.

"Eat up, might help. Everyone always says it helps calm the nerves but I myself ain't too sure of it. But right now you might want to take anything as long as it helps." He shrugged making another attempt at a smile.

Fang nodded and took a sip of the juice; it wasn't overly warm and had a meaty taste. They were right about it being tasty, it was one of the best things she had had in ages, just goes to show it doesn't have to be expensive to be good.

"Goddess be glad you aren't in my situation, my parents are hell. It's damn confusing most people don't know better." She said after chewing and swallowing a piece of meat.

"Most people only believe in what they want, and your parents are the rich social kind. They'll do anything to look good on the outside; we'll be the only ones who know of what bad they have committed. It's a shame what they did to Vanille." He finished and poured two more bowls, one for him one for Dajh.

"Screw the differences, she was my best friend and her parents are nothing but monsters for what they did. For the sake of Etro I care more than they do about her safety." He turned to Fang with an apologetic look, "No offence, I know you're different sometimes I have to remind myself that you're related at all."

"It's fine none taken, I agree with you and hate them all the more." She took some more of the soup. For a minute they were lost in silence, there was a feeling of uncomfortableness but it was ignored as Fang finished the stew. Despite their choice in conversation she did happen to feel more settled, maybe the food did help. So it was as they said.

"I know where it is, you know." She stated suddenly cutting through the almost silence.

"Know where what is?" Sazh questioned as he put down the bowel he was about to eat from.

"The mental hospital that they put Vanille in. I snuck into father's office and looked through his papers; I found a pile from that disgusting place. Apparently it is an expensive place to be sending 'ill' relatives and he has been forgetting previous payments. If they don't get the money he owes them they are going to send her to another place, one certainly not as 'safe' as the one she currently is at."

"Safe? How could she ever be safe in a place like that? They are all the same no matter where she ends up. They treat their patients like dirt, if a sane person ends up there like Vanille has they will still be treated the same way because everyone will forever think they are no different from those who have lost their minds. They are horrible places and no one deserves to suffer in such a place, it doesn't matter if they have lost their minds or not." He sighed outwardly in frustration; Fang had sat there listening quietly throughout.

"Where is it if you do happen to know?" He asked.

"On the outskirts of Nautilus, far away from the glitz and glamour of the big city." She spat, no need to ask why. Nautilus was a fantastic place, shining lights and endless supplies of parties. It was the city of entertainment, but beyond hid shadows darker than most of its inhabitants would ever realise were there. It was a dark place full of the bad kind of people, a place that would only exist in an area like Cocoon. Pulse didn't have such places, Oerba was bad in comparison to most of the state, and all it had was rich Cocoon-heritage idiots that strongly believed them to be better than others.

"Oh dear goddess I fear for that girl's safety. The Nautilus outskirts are not a good place to be for someone like her. I fear what the staff could be doing behind the scenes." Both winced at that comment, they knew what he meant sure enough; people from Cocoon were capable of doing what many considered to be very, very twisted.

Fang stood up from the seat and pulled the old man into a hug, he had found it unexpected from what showed clear from his face, but he relaxed after a second. He knew what this conversation was doing to the young woman; he shouldn't have been surprised at all from what she was doing. He raised a hand to pat down her tangled raven strands, feeling tears fall down her cheeks and land on his chest.

"I'm going to get her out of that place. I'll do it somehow. She shouldn't be there! She didn't do anything wrong!" A strangled sob caught in her throat. "I'll save her! I have to!" Her arms clung weakly to him. He gave a sad smile to her. Acting so unlike her; he knew what Vanille meant to her. To her no one in the world was more important than her darling little sister.

She pulled back and wiped at the remaining tears trickling down her cheeks.

"Ah…I'm sorry I should go now. I should be telling my parents about the proposal, it is important after all." Her voice sounded shaky but she was doing great at returning her composure so rapidly.

She let go of Sazh and moved out the door but was halted by the sound of his voice.

"Look girl, you don't have to worry about anything. Cid's a good guy from a good family; they won't have anything to be angry about. And as for Vanille, I'm sure she'll be fine; but keep in mind not to break that promise; I'm holding you to it. Make sure you save that girl."

She nodded in his direction before turning, giving Dajh, who was eyeing her curiously, a smile, and then running off in the direction of the main house.

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><p>Fang walked in the doors in dead silence, hands held close to her chest, trying to stop the trembling. She knew it wasn't like her to feel so scared but her father could be scarier than a king behemoth when he wanted to be. A part of her wanted to keep quiet because she didn't want to tell the couple who she secretly despised so much news that for them would qualify as happy. She didn't want them to be happy, whether if it was for her or for themselves. It was a feeling they didn't deserve for all who they had hurt and for all they had done.<p>

They would be furious, she was sure, if they knew the true reason for the proposal. That their 'darling' raven haired daughter was no more than trying to escape a part of the fate set up for her. If she, down the line, was forced to marry, it may well be someone that wouldn't force her to do something she would, or could never get herself, to do. Neither she nor Cid had an attraction to each other; he already had feelings for someone else to add to it. This was like an escape attempt, in the hopes if she dodged this part she could be able to find someone she truly could love. For the love of Etro that would be hard to accomplish, even if she found one like her would they have to courage to admit to it? When everyone they knew would look down upon them for it?

Fang let out a frustrated sigh; this was not a topic for today. If love found her it would find her of its own free will; if it never did than love wasn't something meant for her and that was that. She brushed away a stray lock and observed her surroundings; she had sat down on the bottom of the staircase while losing herself in thought. She feared that if she had allowed that trance-like state to continue while she moved she was more than likely to run into something, or someone. Around her she could make out the sounds of slaves running away cleaning the many large rooms that the house consisted of. No sound pointed to anyone else but them from what she could hear, she doubted her parents were near. Why did her father have to have such a large house? His family consisted of three people (previously four). Sazh's family had the same amount and his house was smaller than her bedroom (not a joke), all it had was a table with four chairs, a minuscule kitchen and one bed. His son actually slept on the floor. She couldn't even begin to guess how many rooms were here, sure other houses had more (she knew for a fact that the Farron's plantation had more) but each room was large and decorated with expensive items. One day she had played hide and go seek with Vanille and a couple of the slaves young children too small to do work (they had actually gotten yelled at for it) and it took forever to find even simply one person. It goes without saying they gave up.

Fang stood up abruptly, well sitting here was doing nothing; she might as well make the attempt to find them. She turned deciding to check upstairs first but the suddenness of her movement had been too fast for the slave behind her to react and they slammed right into each other and the boy dropped the cleaning supplies he had been holding.

"Whoa, sorry there didn't see you." She apologised with a laugh taking in his red face as he knelt down to pick up what he had formerly been holding.

"It's fine miss, not your fault. I shouldn't have been walking behind you like that." He replied monotonously and continued with what he was doing. Fang knelt down beside him ignoring what he'd said and helped him pick up the items. He was taking aback by her readiness to help but nothing more was said between them as they finished up.

"I've seen you before, not from any time I would consider 'normal'" She stated with a grin as she stood back up; she adjusting the grey dress.

He noticeably tensed up from her words, and she knew she had hit the nail head on target.

"Is that so?" He tried acting oblivious to what she was meaning but his plan was failing from the clear red of a blush hitting his cheeks.

"You know just because your skin is darker it doesn't mean you can hide when you are blushing." He tensed more. "You were the boy I saw with Cid before Madam Farron's party." She exclaimed just a bit too loud.

If it was possible his face just became redder.

She chuckled as he tried to hide his face behind all that he was holding, his soft chocolate eyes watching his feet in a downwards gaze. She hadn't gotten a good look of him before as he had dashed out of the room an embarrassed mess. His hair was short, too short for it to be classified as curly, but too long for it to give him a bold look. It had a slight wave at the ends where possible curls were beginning, it was placed neatly above his ears but a random assortment of locks cascaded down his brow, one reaching his eye lashes. It touched the bottom of his neck in thin strands, all black as night; for as well as most darker skinned people his hair was even darker than her own raven. For his face, she considered him as more pretty than handsome, but not so enough that she would call him a pretty boy. His lips and nose were small; above his eyes were a wonderful chocolate, ears partly hidden behind his black hair. His was around her height, not as tall as boys could be but tall enough; after all it wasn't like she was short.

"I'm sorry for that intrusion of mine; I found it far too tempting not to."

He looked back to her face shocked, "You mean…you're not bothered by what we did?" He said it out loud, half to her half simply testing how the insane thought sounded on his tongue.

"Hm." She answered fast, and added, "Do you know about our plan?" She tilted her head in question.

The boy looked unsteadily for a second and avoided the contact of their eyes; he didn't voice his response and instead gave a short nod of his head, black hair flicking with the movement.

"I was angry when they told me, but I was too scared to say anything about it." He shifted the position of the items in his arms. An unsettled feeling had decided to rest in his stomach.

"Don't worry." She put a hand on his shoulder to which his gaze switched to the moment she felt her hand on him. "With our circumstances we'd both have some problems down the road that is life, so the proposal is so we don't have to have all those problems. In other words we are keeping a big secret that may possibly make our parents' heads explode if they ever were to find out. So we are going to hide it in one big lie." She gave him her usual Fang grin and watched his reaction as his head put it all together.

"So you…as well…" He mumbled; she nodded already getting the message.

"I get how you guys feel about each other, and if I can stop you from being separated than I will do anything that I can to stop it. Look I can see you're a good guy and he's my friend, I don't want you to get hurt. If anything this is also a plus to me since ain't no way no how I'm letting my mother force me to marry some arse of a guy that's gonna want me to do his every bidding because she thought he looked nice and would so give her nice looking grandchildren and such dribble." She removed her hand from his shoulder and took a step back but her expression changed like she had just remembered something,

"Hey what is your name? Keep forgetting to ask."

He blinked at her stupidity, for she had basically had a serious conversation with a stranger. "Ben."

She nodded twice and said quickly, "Nice name, actually I think it's boring but well I guess my opinion doesn't matter." She pointed up to the top of the stairs and tilted her head.

"Well see you later then, I have to go and actually tell my parents about the proposal, I seriously haven't said a word yet. Sad thing is I don't have the idea where they are and strongly believe I'm about to get lost looking for them…in my own house." She flapped her arm and made for the stairs, tripping after one step. She got up muttering under her breath how bad dresses were for running in before picking up the many folds so it no longer reached her ankles and continued her way up.

Ben stared blankly at the place she had disappeared from. Thinking about how dresses were never made to run in in the first place.

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><p>Fang searched upstairs, paying attention to every little sound that could alert her of one of her parents' presence. Her feet creaked on the wooden floor boards with each step and the constant sound was turning into a great annoyance. She walked past a slave or two heading in whatever direction she had decided to take. It had been a long time since she had come through her house like this, mostly she hung out outside with any slave having a break before going on with their work. She wasn't likely to admit this to many but from this habit she could quite easily become lost in this house; whether it be hers she truly barely knew it. She was starting to have the thoughts that her oddity of a fear was coming into fruition, she passed one door too many that her eyes did not register from memories. She cursed her habits for a moment; being lost in such a large, intimidating house was one thing to unsettle a being to great lengths. She felt fear creep its dark ways inside her head once again as previous feelings slowly rose to the surface as time went on. For what she wanted to say she was truly terrified.<p>

Her hands turned into fists and she cursed her own stupidity at not even making the attempt to map out this house despite living here for so long. She found her way to a large room at the end of a hallway, from inside was deep sounding snores. She sighed as she her mind figured this was her parent's room, and her father was not awake to hear what she had finally gathered up the courage for. She bit her lip and decided to find her mother while the courage still existed, at least if she was to lose it the moment she saw him she had her mother to scream out (yes scream out) the wonderful news.

She hoped she had gone through what their was of the room's on the second floor, because as she made her way down the grand stair case she was quite against going back up and looking again when so much time had already been wasted for an obvious result.

The surroundings that came about in this part of the house were far better known, and didn't hold eerie uneasy silences that were all that welcomed the ears in the rooms above. She searched the hallways and found nothing there, the grandness of the marvellous library resulted in one all so similar. She was at her limit when she finally caught a sight of the older woman.

Oerba Dia Awana sat reading a book covered in red leather with gold writing stating its name and who had once wrote it. She was seated on a lounge in the front parlour, looking content as the sun's bright rays shone against pale red hair shining a gold colour at the hand of the orange orb. A smile greeted her lips and she was in complete silence. With a face so much like her dear sister, Fang felt bad disrupting such a calming moment. She had to remind herself that, mother or not, Awana was a very different person.

"Ahem." She coughed into her hand, alerting the ageing woman of her presence in the room.

"Oh Fang, it's lovely to see you dove." She shut the book and rested it on the table to her side. "What is it? Is there something you wish to discuss?" She beamed a smile very much like how her younger daughter always would, but dark shadows hid behind her eyes; proving the startling difference between the two.

She opened her mouth to talk finding nothing was coming out, she cursed in her head and pondered on how to say what she needed to. She hadn't thought that part out, only that she had to say it and that was all. She had spent too much time in a panic mode over it all.

She bit her lip softly and thought it out, surely if she said that she proposed to Cid she'd get a weird look, but she didn't feel like lying and say he did. How was she meant to say it without lying or weirding her out by being dead truthful over how it happened. And how exactly is the woman going to react? She didn't want to be hugged even though best guess had all signs pointing to yes for that. '_Goddess help me this is annoying,'_ she thought, the curious look her mother was giving her was actually getting annoying and she was still on the thinking part of this. Maybe she should wait a bit more before saying it? Yeah that might work…._'Oh damn it!'_ she yelled inside her head. It was trying to make her wiggle out of this again.

"Um..I..." She turned her gaze away from the waiting expression on the older one's face. It was irritating her she did admit, nothing wrong with not looking the bitch in the eye.

"Fang is something up?" The redhead walked closer, she missed how her daughter tensed up as her hand touched her cheek. She missed a lot of things concerning her eldest, she had either turned a blind eye to it or her mind simply ignored it without her control. She wasn't a bright woman in Fang's mind.

"I guess," She mumbled, fiddling with the waist of her dress, still keeping up avoiding any eye contact whatsoever.

"You can tell me you know, I'm your mother. Is there a problem?" Her eyes looked so sincere, for truthfully they were but Fang had more than one reason not to fall for the kind look. This woman could be evil when she wanted to.

'_You really think I want to tell you all my problems even though I know what you did to your own daughter?'_ She thought but her mind told her it would never be a bright idea to say a word about her true ideas on that matter out loud.

"It's not what I'd consider a problem really." She kept her voice low, the uncomfortable feeling she had felt before was coming back to her full throttle. She felt sick in her stomach, her hands lifted up to her stomach as if having them there would force it away.

"I know I should have told you earlier..." She bit her tongue as her mother's expression became considerably more occupied with curiosity.

"Come on my little dove, you can say it," She mother beamed radiantly. To be honest Fang had always hated being called dove, but that was something for another time.

"Ahh, Cid and I..." Her mouth stopped her half way. Yes this was frustrating; she needed to tell her now she'd waited long enough.

'Okay, breathe in out, in out. Okay so we're calmer now right?" Her mind resorted to talking to itself. 'Now close your eyes so you don't have to look at her, and say it all in one go. You ready now, let's go!'

"Me and Cid want to get married!" She breathed out in one quick rushed breath.

Her mother's reaction was priceless, or it would have to anyone that didn't hate her to death. Her eyes looked like they were about to jump far out of their sockets and run away somewhere she would never find them. Well, that was going overboard, but still. She quite literally jumped for joy from hearing those words, red curls bounced up and down with the movement. If Fang could she would have punched her for having such a Vanille-like reaction from hearing about the proposal, but she knew she had to restrain from allowing herself such. She was an actor in a play and she wasn't going to let her true emotions break free so close to the finale.

"Oh I'm so happy for you; Cid's a brilliant young man! Oh I just know you'll be really happy together." She giggled joyfully and gave her a big hug.

"It's about time too, you're almost nineteen. That pretty face wasn't going to last forever; gee I didn't even know you'd been looking for a man! Oh I'm so proud! Looks like I didn't have to do anything in the end." Her hands held her daughter's close. The younger one was rather ticked off but her mother in glee she missed it all.

Awana continued with her ecstatic mood, she spun around her hands held in front of a face crying happy tears.

"I always thought you were just friends! Oh goddess now I'm glad I didn't act earlier, would've ruined it!" She turned back to a blank faced Fang, who hastily switched so she instead showed a fake happiness.

Her mother grabbed her hands beaming, "I have to tell your father!" She made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a cry and made a run for the stairs in the direction of her husband.

Fang watched her, her feelings were placed in a queer place that was neither happy nor sad. She wasn't sure if what she was doing was right, if she should be lying about a thing like love. It was a cowardly escape on her side; but she didn't want her friend to be forced away from the one he loved just because they were both men, it was unjust. She was doing this for him, if this escape ever brought her to love than she would have to wait and find out. And if anything what her parents didn't know wasn't going to hurt them, they deserved to hurt anyhow.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, an expression showing a silent pain.

'We are just friends.'

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><p>Her mother succeeded in rousing her father not so long afterwards, he was a deep sleeper it was a miracle she managed with such speed. Well she gave her credit for what she had to tell him, it was damn joyful news for a parent to get.<p>

He had rushed downstairs and pulled her into a hug, exclaiming just how happy he was for his daughter to be getting married. Right now, despite it all, she felt like they were acting like they only ever had one daughter. As much as it made her sick for their usual habit to be showing its head oh so clearly, she had the restraint to hold any anger back. She'd learnt to, she had to, for the sake of looking good in society.

It was her only 'sheep' habit, lying in order to make oneself look good among the rest of the crowd. She had grown up fearing how her parents would react to her true self; she was open to everyone but them. Her father was a terrifying man, and as much has she hated to admit he got to her too; the only one not to act how he wanted them too was Vanille, reason for why she was now locked up in an asylum.

Of course in this moment she faked her emotions and went along with them in a supposedly happy time for them all. She felt sick smiling next to such hated people, parents or not nothing would stop her secret hatred.

"You can wear my dress; we'll just need to adjust the hem." Her mother was exclaiming happily as both husband and wife piped up with ideas for the day. She didn't say a word, she didn't want to; and after all, all they were planning was for a lie. One big lie.

She didn't even feel sorry for them being so easily deceived.

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><p><strong>Done, now you don't have to maul me in my sleep. Maybe …<strong>

**My brother got a card that read "from (insert name here) and (insert name here) ((yes I'm not going to say their names)) reducing your grocery bills since 2011." For his 17****th**** birthday. The present was a massive box, inside was two chocolate rabbits and 10 boxes of coco pops. There is definitely something wrong with his friends.**

**I'm glad for all the reviews I got for the last chapter, five I think it was, I'll be glad to have at least a similar number this time round; maybe even more hopefully. Though I'd be more happy to have a proper review rather than someone saying 'omg I love Fang she is cool' because that is a comment. Sorry if I sound like a bitch but I actually want some concrit for once. The little paranoid voice in my head (which I called Arianna) is begging for it and she won't shut up.**

**But one thing I have to say, please for the love of god and all that is holy, if I have any Hope/Light fans reading this story review and make your existence known, I'm scared to death of the Flight fans killing me in my sleep like how I'm going to go murder my bro's friend who hacked his PSP and now has KH BBS Final mix. Look this story has both Flight and Hope/Light in it but I fear I've only attracted the fans of one of those matchups and I have to admit it's Hope/Light before it's FLight (yeah that sounds little wrong considering how young he is but that is beside the point). Look I'm begging it's as simple as saying 'I like that matchup and nothing more.'**

**Oh and because I'm going to be a good friend and sister, I'm going to promote Claire's (seeker of the skies) and Fang's (0erbayunfang) stories because they are doing it for mine. Fang only has two, the school fic is better because the other one is very rushed. But she has a very good writing style. Claire has better plotlines but has a problem with grammatical errors, but hopefully her new beta reader is going to fix that. She has three stories and her favourite is sadly the most unpopular, kinda same situation as me there LOL.**

**And sorry for this long authors note I have one least thing to say, and don't expect me to stop this anytime soon, I recommend you my darling fans to read my precious story Wings of Regret. As sadly it is very unpopular and Arianna is having fun making me suffer for it. I love it so much it pains me to see it with less than 100 hundred hits. If my mind is on the chapter than it will be written great, unless it's not because otherwise it's a pile of crap, like the fifth chapter was.**

**Thanks for reading, Jya mata ne! **


	7. Frustrations

**(3,340 words) I'm sorry for this being short, but I really couldn't write it, It was total hell even attempting. The next chapter should be easier for me as I'm regaining my Fang obssession (it comes and goes). I'll say this now because I feel a little bad for it considering this is my most popular fanfiction, but it may take awhile for me go give you all another update as I've got two assignments to complete and five other chapters to write before the next one for this. **

**Sorry about that.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own XIII, just my fics.**

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><p><strong>7) Frustration<strong>

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><p>Claire lay wrapped up in her many blankets; she'd been awake since long before sunrise. But she didn't even let the thought of getting up pass through her mind. She was in no mood that could qualify as good. She was being troubled by many things, and at the top of the list was Serah.<p>

She'd always seen her little sister as smart, but who she chose to be with made her doubt it, at least in that category. For someone with such a brain on her surely it would seem foolish to give up her life so early on for a man like Snow. Sure, for a girl with her life it didn't yield many options for a future, but she had chances, more than one for someone like her. But she was intent on marrying the blonde oaf and gave them all up just like that.

Claire let out one big sigh, she was comfortable here but for what her mind was focused so strongly on she couldn't enjoy it, not in the least. Maybe she could go run off to her usual place again, the sun was out and the grass would be dry so making a mess of herself wasn't going to happen. Well that was one thing out that would mean less of a yelling from her mother. But as she was still going to the place after so many warnings not to, that in itself was a reason to be yelled at. And even excluding that it was extremely unavoidable she would have someone that would have gone off at her during the course of today. It was simply impossible not to.

For it was the day of her little sister's wedding. If it wasn't for the fact that it was a special day for Serah, she would find a way to get out of it. She didn't want to go, not at all.

Brushing the thought out of her head she got out of bed, and she quickly got herself dressed. She skipped putting on a corset, they were painful in all honesty; she never really bothered with them unless she was forcibly made to wear one. She gave her hair a quick brush and left her room behind, in the direction of her special place.

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><p>She made her way down the grand wooden stairs, passing a slave or two as she strode down the long hallways. They looked at her in their usual curiosity, but it wasn't as much as it used to be. There was only one reason she came by this way, and that was because she was going to her little place, banned many times by her mother. They knew she didn't care; she didn't hide her lack of care for what that woman said. Sure they didn't either but they were the ones that had no choice but to listen closely to each and every word.<p>

Claire exited the main house and entered the stone courtyard. The fountain was sputtering water out in fantastic shapes as usual as she past it, heading straight for the little brown wooden bridge at its end.

She'd passed decorations as she made her way here; her mother had waited just enough time so she could go all out on it. The wait had been more than the woman could stand but it had payed off for her in the end.

Claire strode over the creaking bridge and continued her way over the ankle length grass. Her mother wanted it to be cut but she herself had always enjoyed the sensation of the grass against her feet, as like most times she was walking across the green strands barefoot. She dodged between the trees, leaves narrowly missing landing on her shoulders. She'd been in such a bad mood locked up in that mansion of a home but out here she was free to wander in nostalgic memories and the weight of her unwanted life could be so easily lifted off her shoulders, just like that in the beauty of the natural setting around her. It felt so wonderful to her that it almost made her want to skip the rest of the way, but she saw that as too childish of a habit. Even if Serah still did it from time to time, but she was Serah, she could.

Claire rounded a turn in the group of trees surrounding her and she arrived at her usual spot. She stepped towards the middle and took a breath in of the clean natural air, it was so much better out here, at home everything smelt like dust. The wind was cool, not stuffy as it hit her skin. It was wonderful, she never felt better than when she was here; it was why she missed having her darling sister's presence among the trees here.

Humming an old tune to herself, she took a seat on the bench, enjoying each time the cool wind passed by her.

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><p>She didn't care much for the time that passed, it was nearing midday and surely someone must have been looking for her by now; whether or not they were concerned about where she was at all. Her mother would have ordered it at some time, taking into consideration what today was she would be positively furious with not knowing where her eldest was. Claire was surprised though that she was yet to be forced back; surely people knew that this was where she escaped to by now since she'd been going here since a young age.<p>

After some time had passed, she heard quiet but noticeable rustling sounds coming from the side of her. Blue eyes targeted the spot it had come from; she figured someone had finally found her. They had taken their sweet time certainly, she wasn't sure if she should be glad over it, all she knew right now was that she still didn't want to go back at all.

Slowly but surely someone was materialising through the trees, one for sure she hadn't expected, not here at least.

"Serah?" She asked for the sake of her puzzlement, this was the first time in years the girl had even dared go near this place, much less come here.

"I thought I'd find you here." She giggled, putting her hands on her hips and looking at her with a childish cheeky grin.

"You haven't come here for years, why now?" Her sister's confusion didn't lift.

She put a finger against her lip in mock thought, with one hand still placed on her waist, humming to herself.

"Maybe because if mother found you here she'd absolutely flip." She crossed her arms still in the same pretend thought. "She would with me of course but you know how she is with you."

Serah placed her arms behind her back, an expression somewhere in the middle of worry and understanding placed on her face.

"You understand what today is, don't you?" Her voice sounded out the worry she showed.

Claire looked back, hurt passing over her face. "Yes, of course I do." She lowered her head to hide her expression, shaking it dejectedly.

"But why him Serah? Of all people, why him?"

She didn't get an instant reply, and she wasn't looking in the direction to see how her sister was looking at her.

"I don't expect you to understand Claire. But I love him whether you like it or not." Her voice held a note of sadness to it. Her elder sister looked back up to see a face of sympathy directed at her.

"But he's an idiot!"

Serah brushed away a stray lock and sighed.

"He's not an idiot; it's just that you don't like him that makes you say he is."

Her sister almost wanted to roll her eyes at that. She couldn't think of Snow as smart, not with him the way he was.

"I still don't…"

"You don't have to understand, because you are not me and you also can't make my decisions in life for me." The younger sister cut in, Claire looked up to her in surprise, she tried to say something but as she opened her mouth Serah interrupted again.

"Look, if I have to marry in life isn't it best to marry someone I love rather than wait for mother to pick a husband for me? I love Snow with all my heart and nothing you ever say is going to change that." Claire saw the sincereness in her sister's eyes, she wasn't kidding about anything.

"And you're going to come back with me right now." Serah's expression changed drastically from her sympathetic one to an almost evil grin.

"And there is nothing you can do about that as well."

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><p>If only Claire had the ability to say no to her sister, because if she did the girl wouldn't have taken advantage of that disability. So now she was finding herself stuck getting ready for what was later in the day. Which still she was against going to and certainly didn't want to forcibly be made to look nice for it.<p>

Her mother had ordered two passing slaves to help her because they all knew if left by herself she'd do nothing. Before that part her mother had made her have a bath even though the only dirty part was her feet and it was only a small amount of dirt she'd gotten on them. But that woman who always wanted everything to be perfect said even that was too much. The slaves assisting her in getting ready upon finding she was not wearing a corset she had been urged her to put one on. Jeez, she'd forgotten just how uncomfortable they were. She'd gone for a good long time without one.

The two ageing woman had put make up on her making it all worse before taking a brush and running it through her hair. At least she'd convinced them to let her keep it on the side, it always annoyed her mother that style. Still they tied it with a ribbon, a baby blue to match the dress she was wearing.

Claire was glad when they left; she had time to herself before she was made to leave this little sanctuary she'd made in her room.

She sighed openly and outwardly, placing one hand against her forehead and one on the dressing table to keep her steady. She wouldn't be able to enjoy this minute of silence, not when her mind was racing like it was.

So much was happening at the moment, more than she could stand. Her darling little sister was marrying some stupid moronic idiot at the tender young age of sixteen. Her father was soon going to be made to be sent off into the army to help in the war. He wasn't even much of a fighter, none of the men of even a similar status to his were. But the Pulsian government was getting panicky, so they would take whatever they could get.

Stupid war, why did Cocoon and Pulse have to have a freaking war? They were the same country weren't they? Just different states.

It just seemed too ridiculous; couldn't things have been solved so much easier than having to start a civil war?

If she was any worse at keeping her emotions from showing she had a feeling she'd be growling right now. She could do it quite easily, to make someone think she was happy when she was sad, it was a talent that women like her grew up learning to do; she herself had just never been bothered to use it.

Claire stood up abruptly, it would all start soon, and she couldn't escape now; may as well move downstairs rather than staying up here. Usually the quiet would keep her in a better mood but for this time it was a futile attempt. If she wasn't going to get any better it wasn't like getting out of here would make it any worse. She swore that now even her special sanctuary wouldn't be able to make her calm now.

Nothing stopped her from glaring at the door; she didn't want to have to deal with what was beyond it, not like she had a choice in the matter.

She shook her head like it would rid herself of bad thoughts, when it was all the same she moved towards the door, dreading the rest of the day.

* * *

><p>Downstairs those invited were arriving and her mother as always was greeting them. Her father was chatting to some men in the corner; his happiness was almost completely faked right now. Sure he was happy that it was his daughter's wedding but the fact he couldn't be here much longer had brought him down. He'd been pushing it to be allowed to stay to at least be there for her on the day.<p>

She stood by the corner waiting for it to be over and done with and the ceremony could get started. She just wanted today to end; she would never enjoy the thought of Snow marrying her sister, she absolutely didn't want to see it happen. She just wished she had a choice not to go, but that would make Serah unhappy not having her there.

Pushing off the wall she moved away from the gathering crowd, she didn't know much where everyone was sides the amount of friends arriving right now. Getting out of the front hall she spotted the ballroom decorated to make it look like the perfect place for a wedding. It seemed her mother intended to use one of the other rooms for the reception, she had plenty enough for it. Slaves were running about doing the last minute touches, she saw Butterfly looping ribbons around the backs of chairs. It added a nice look but she herself didn't see it as all that necessary. Most would just ignore the couple of girls as they were not seen as much at all by most here, though for her she saw them as better than those rich snobs. They were far too concerned over appearance.

Claire stood by the entrance watching them finish, they didn't take notice of her presence until Butterfly stood up straight and turned around to see her there.

"Ah, Young miss! What are you doing here?" She asked none too quietly. She took a second to notice that that certainly wasn't asked in an 'inside voice'

She blushed and hid her face as it registered with her, she mumbled a sorry as her mind was still to comprehend that the girl in front of her was quite different to what others of the same status as her were. She was simply raised being yelled at by them, no one could blame her.

"You don't have to do that. I don't care how loud you are. You've yelled at me more than once." Claire reminded her in hopes the young girl would calm down.

She saw it visibly that it'd worked. Butterfly gave a slight nod as a sympathetic look placed itself on her face.

"Are you alright with today Young miss?" She asked in a far softer voice than what she'd used previously. She twiddled with her fingers nervously.

"What do you think the answer is?" Anger laced the comment.

Butterfly gave her an understanding look. "I thought it'd be like that. I can see how you feel. I'd hate it if I had a sister that was gonna marry someone I couldn't stand." She changed fiddling with her hands to a strand of hair fallen down.

"To be honest I don't see what she sees in him either. I've only met him once and I didn't even understand one word he said. He seems stupid."

Claire failed to force back a grin at Butterfly's truthfulness. "Glad someone sees it that way other than me."

The small woman in front of her gave a tiny nod. She turned around and ended the conversation. She knelt by the other slave in the room now and told her quickly.

"Georgia, it's good now, we can go before Madam Farron comes in and yells at us for being slow." She tugged on the arm of the even younger girl and made her leave. Claire watched them for one second before leaving herself as there was nothing in the room to pass the time until the ceremony.

Butterfly was never going to stop being paranoid over being yelled at.

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><p>Mid-afternoon was when the ceremony began, everyone was made to go to their own reserved seat in the ball room. Claire was by her mother's side at the front on the left. She would have never said it out loud but she felt unbelievably sick right at this second. She really didn't want to be here, she would always rather see Snow suffer some horrid kind of death than see him marry her little sister. This sick feeling wasn't going to go away, not any time soon.<p>

When the piano music started she wanted to run off. She didn't want to be here; she didn't want to watch this, not this.

She wanted to keep her head down, and she could feel her mother's eyes burning into the back of her head for doing so. Why wouldn't she be angry that her eldest wanted to be somewhere else when it was her own sister's wedding? Of course it would seem she missed the fact that it was only because of Snow. If it wasn't for him she would be almost completely fine.

He was standing at the altar, looking happy; she wanted nothing more than to punch him. But she knew she had to restrain herself. Serah was walking down the aisle with her hand in her father's. Her hair had been curled to assist in making her already beautiful waves even more magnificent. She was wearing make-up as well, even if she didn't really need it, it barely added more beauty to her face as she naturally had a great deal in the first place. The dress was stunning, even Claire had to admit that to herself, it had originally belonged to their mother. With the hem adjusted as their mother was anything but tall.

She had her eyes on her, but Claire's thoughts were attempting to escape to somewhere else. She didn't want to be here, nothing would change that.

When Serah got the altar Snow took her small hands in his, smiling so broadly at her. If only it was someone else in his place, whatever had Serah ever seen in him?

Throughout the entire time she tried to look down, she didn't want to witness this moment, it was her little sister after all! Even if it was a man other than Snow she knew and she would admit to herself easily that she wouldn't want to see her get married. It was like she was being taken away from her. And Serah was all she had sides her father. And he too would be gone soon.

She heard each word being said clear as day, but her mind was racing faster than it had all day, and it felt like everything was silent all at the same time.

At the end, everyone was walking up to the newlyweds, to congratulate them of course. Claire tried to be as far away as she could from them. Serah would want to talk to her, but she was with Snow and surely Serah knew that if her sister went anyway near him right now he would most certainly get a hard punch to the face.

She still could see her older sister's melancholy expression even if anyone else missed it. She wished, whether her sister cared for it or not, that maybe someday someone could enter her life and make her happy just like Snow had with her. It was a long shot, but she wished for it nonetheless.

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><p><strong> I didn't like my writing in this, the last thing I wrote was much better, but that was one of the best things I've ever written.<strong>

**If anyone is wondering what they hell I'm talking about it was a monodramatic teaser for a sanity-challenged story I'm going to write eventually. Usually I'm critical of my writing (Like in this stupid chapter for example) But I'm not for the teaser. Now I'm really exited to write the story. I've just got to wait awhile because I'm already writing eight stories at once and I don't think nine is any smarter.**

**I was kinda depressed that the only review I got for the last chapter was from my big sister and no one else, but then I noticed the alerts had gone up from nine to eighteen. So I wasn't that upset anymore.**

**Still it would be nice for any possible hope/light fans to review this, I'm still terrified that the FLight fans will maul me in my sleep. Why on earth did I make a story with two matchups that both include the same person? I feel like I going to make people hate me from things not going the way they want it.**

**I'm happy for all the reviews I've recieved so far and more shall be much appreciated and will help my stupid paranoia shut up.**

**I reccormend any one reading this to read my fantastic 'Wings of regret'. Cause it's stil bloody unpopular and I'm in a bad mood over it.**

**Till next time,**

**Jya ne!**


	8. Leaving behind

**(3,704 words) I'm sorry if this took a bit to update, I'm the idiot with nine stories being written at the same time. plus my beta got distracted by playing XIII so she wasn't on fanfiction, but luckily I reminded her of them and she did this. Now she just has the other DOCX and the one I'm putting up later today to do.**

**Now something fun and irrelevant to tell you, I'll try to make it quick so you can get on with the chapter. I may have mentioned before that my beta is actually a friend of mine, so I go to her house a lot. Well she got stuck on fighting Cid, and damn was it funny because I had my mind on this chap the whole time plus she spent the better half of the battle (Sorry for my language) saying "Fuck you fuck you fuck you"...yeah, she failed. So we gave the controller over to my sister, and let me just say. .Him. Beat him first go, it was bloody hilarious. My friend took twenty.**

**And now that that's over, here's me chappie,**

**Disclaimer: I don't own this, I just want to steal the legal rights to Serah.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 8) Leaving behind<strong>

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><p>Fang sat near her bedside window, on a burgundy cushioned chair pushed across from her dressing table. She sat in her mother's old wedding dress; two days previous its hems had been adjusted so it reached her feet. That ecstatic woman had arranged everything so fast the time had gone like a blur. A part of her was joyful, but still she felt the most peculiar sense of sadness and fear. She was going to leave this place, like she'd always wished that someday she would. But this had been her whole world for the short eighteen years or her life; even if she hated those people she called her parents, this was home. She'd befriended many of her father's slaves and got along with them all very well, it was a shame she would never see them again. She had no idea of life beyond this household, it was going to be so different, so the fear she felt as normal.<p>

A bird chirped somewhere out in the distance, as she sighed and rested her head on the gold painted window sill. The dress was beautiful; even she had to admit that. It flowed down her legs with large ruffles curving in and out, on the waist was a silver slash tied in a bow-knot at the back. The bust had been adjusted as well to fit her body-type as it differed greatly from her mother's; the silver butterfly patterned lace that went up the middle had been stretched out to allow more room. The collar was square shaped, close to her neck at the sides and dipping at the back and front, the edgings were made of the same silver lace that covered the middle of her chest but was cut into small triangular shapes around her neck. The sleeves puffed out slightly at her shoulders and then clung tightly to her arm the rest of the way down to her elbows where they stopped and were met with blue-tinted white gloves. She had on a pair of elegant white heels and under them thin white stockings to cover the rest of her feet. The maids had attempted to fix up her hair, but it still remained quite similar to the mess it usually was. It was straighter at least; many of the strands stayed down but one or two were too stubborn to obey. She'd been told it didn't matter anyway as her veil would cover her hair and those disobedient locks would be missed.

The ceremony would start soon. A silly part of her wanted to laugh, but the rest of her made the thought stay a thought. She was marrying a friend; it seemed so weird a thought. Neither felt anything either physically or emotionally for each other, but everyone else had fallen for their lie so easily. It showed how little people cared to think about what went on in other's lives. You could say anything and it'd be believed, only because they didn't have the proof it wasn't the truth anyway.

Fang looked to the side as her door creaked open; she rose up out of her seat when surprisingly the woman at the door happened to be Annette. Her hair was a mess at the moment thanks to all the sleeping she'd been doing lately. Her skin was strangely radiant, and her stomach was considerably larger since last time she'd been able to talk with the woman.

"Annette? What are you doing here? You should be sleeping; Sazh might get worried about you." She spoke up, but the elder only smiled brightly at her.

"Oh come on Fang, you've been like a daughter to me, don't you think I would have loved to see you on your big day. I missed my actual daughter's because of your papa; do you think I'd dare miss this?" She asked in sweet voice.

Fang smiled slightly at that, she had missed out on much of her children's lives because all three had been sold off as teens. This woman had been a second mother to her and Vanille for as long as she could remember, she would have wanted to be here no matter what she was supposed to be doing right at this moment.

"You still care even though you know the real reason behind this?" She chuckled dryly, Annette was silent as she strode over to her and placed her hands on the younger woman's shoulders.

"Of course it counts, no matter what the reason you're doing this. It's a good deed you're doing too."

"Good deed?" She looked up into her bright hazel eyes.

"Yes, we've heard plenty about Mr Raines's parents, none of us would've been surprised if his mother decided she'd set him up with some pretty young lass. And most of us know as well about that Ben's differences, we could guess he'd have to make many sacrifices to avoid more troubles in his life. That plan you've created saves them both form having to make those sacrifices." Annette beamed brightly at her. Fang tried to give her a smile in return, but couldn't bring herself to make one.

"But are you alright?" The motherly woman put a hand on Fang's chin to keep her looking into her eyes; she was trying to find the fear in those jade orbs. "You know you'll be alright in the end, you don't have to worry so much."

"But…!"

"It'll be alright, believe me." She told her sternly, eyes firmly stuck on her.

"But how am I to know that it will be for me just because it is for them?" She asked her pleading for some kind of answer.

Annette didn't give a straight away reply; she stayed quiet while her expression was switching between one expressing thought to a soft look.

"People never know what the future holds. You can only wait and find out; you can't know now, because it's yet to pass."

Fang smiled at her attempt to cheer her up, she was always trying her hardest to make others feel better, even if she has her own problems to deal with. The raven haired woman opened her mouth to say something but was stopped when Annette pulled her into a hug and whispered softly against her ear.

"It's too late to back out now, you know that well enough, but don't you dare be afraid, you've nothing to fear."

She pulled back and gave her a smile, to which Fang returned this time.

"I'll miss you, you know that right?" She mumbled as a tear rolled down her cheek.

"Of course I know that, it'll be the same for us." The ageing woman gave a pause, "He wants to move to Cocoon from what I heard; that's a long way away."

"Hell yeah it is, but it's for the best. It's far away from those that know us so no one will get suspicious if something seems a little up, plus they don't have slaves there so it will be better for Ben." She laughed but still a tear rolled down, it wasn't happy or sad, it was both.

"I wish you luck then sweetie, new places can be scary."

"Thanks Annette, I really mean it." She wiped the droplets from her eyes.

The woman beamed at her, "I know. But I've got to get going before Awana finds me here, can't judge a book by the cover with that woman, she can get angry pretty easy." She pivoted and headed for the door.

"Wait!" Fang called as her hand touched the knob, she twisted her head around with a questioning look planted on her face. "What?"

"Can you tell Sazh that I promise him that I'm going to save Vanille from that place, it was never right that they sent her there. I need to take her out."

Annette smiled a melancholy smile, "Of course Fang. Goodbye." And with that she exited the room and shut the door behind her.

Fang had to wish that it wouldn't be the last time she saw her, but the future was anyone's guess. So for now it had to stay as simply a wish.

She sighed and swiped at another tear that dared to fall, before returning to the chair at her window, and waiting until she had to go downstairs for the ceremony.

….

The sun was slowly falling behind the hills and the sky was painted a beautiful gold. A pair of maids had come in earlier to do her make-up before it all started. It wasn't long now, she would soon be made to go downstairs after all the guests had arrived and had settled down in the grand hall, for that was where her mother had set it to happen. And another room almost just as grand had been set up for the reception.

She sat in front of her mirror, staring at her own reflection with a blank stare. Why did she have to be so scared, what was it that made her feel this way? Was she scared her parents would find out the truth? She knew they wouldn't, she had them under her thumb believing each and every lie that she fed them. They were blind, loving a side of her made up for them, for the sake of the delusion that they had raised one daughter the way they wanted her to be. They would never know, she could scream the truth at them and they would think she was messing with them and that was it.

"Dove?" A light voice called from behind her, looking in the direction of the sound she spotted her mother dressed up in her best outfit standing by the door, with one hand resting on the knob.

"Yes?" She replied, her voice void of emotion.

Her mother didn't voice a reply, instead she watched as the woman's face turned into a smile that spread all across her face and a joyful tear dripped down her face. She crossed the space between them in a second and stood in front of her, trying her dandiest to hold in all her emotions lest they explode out of her.

"Oh I knew you would look beautiful in that dress, you look even better than I did in it. Oh I'm so proud of you." She rested a dainty hand on her daughter's right shoulder, beaming.

Fang's eyes lingered over to the gloved hand before returning to look at her mother's face.

"Thanks."

She knew the woman was still talking, but she couldn't hear it. Her mind had made her go deaf, she could only see the mouth movement. If she didn't have those lines on her face, if that hair wasn't so long, if it was lighter, she'd look identical to her younger daughter; the one she refused to admit even existed.

"Fang are you alright?" The question broke through her trance; she blinked twice like she'd forgotten the woman was there, despite having her right in front of her.

The redhead looked so concerned; those big pea green eyes were filled with sadness.

"Why do you ask?"

"You look like your mind is on something else, are you worried about today?" She inquired, being the concerned mother she was for once.

"I don't think that's it." She shook her head and looked back at her reflection in the shining mirror.

"What is it then?" She leaned over her shoulder so if Fang wanted to look at her reflection she was stuck seeing her mother's as well.

She thought about that, it was a lot of things in all honesty. But what was most important?

Then it clicked, "I miss my sister." She choked back tears. Oh god she did, every day she did with all her heart, all her joy filled childhood memories contained that happy go lucky girl. She'd always been there; all those times when they'd made wishes for the future, she'd been there. Was it because this, for whatever reason, was a milestone in her life. One she had to make alone without Vanille's smiling face.

Her mother stood up abruptly, staring at her incredulity, like what she said just wasn't possible.

"Vanille? That girl? But why?" She questioned severely.

It was her daughter's turn now to return the look she'd been given at her words. "She's my sister, I love her. She's the only one that has really cared."

"But she's insane, there's a reason your father sent her to that place you know!" Awana screamed harshly, any joy she felt had been washed away by anger.

"Because she told you that she had befriended a man who was trying to do his best for his family, but because his skin was a different colour to yours you reckon she was nuts, do you know how insane that sounds!" She growled, startling the petite women.

"They're not like us…"

"Of course they're not; they aren't a bunch of bitches and assholes who think they own the world."

"Fang how dare you speak this way to me! I'm your mother!"

"Well if you don't want me to then leave!" Her daughter snapped and stood up, towering above the redhead.

Awana gave her a hurt and fearful look. "Dove, what's gotten into you?"

"Nothing, I'm just giving you my own thoughts on things. I don't care right now what you think of who she chose to befriend, but she's my sister and I have a right to have wanted her here!"

"But Fang..!"

"Leave, for the goddess' sake just leave!" The raven hair screamed at the top of her lungs.

Her mother looked like she was in pain, but the look stayed in her sight for a second only as she got the message and left the room. Fang exhaled noisily and sat back down; she hoped no one had heard that. Bad thing how loud she'd chosen to be.

Fang sat in silence for the rest of the time she remained in her room. She barely knew if she should feel bad or not for what she'd said to her mother. But she deserved it so much, someone needed to tell her off, she had this stupid mindset that whatever she thought was right, but it never was, not once.

"Miss Oerba?" A quaint voice spoke up from the doorway; she tilted her head to see the teenage face of one of the slaves looking over at her.

"Yes?"

"It's starting; you need to go downstairs." She informed her; the Pulsian woman nodded and flipped her veil over her face.

"Right." She rose from the burgundy seat and moved past the young girl at the door.

…

The grand hall had been set up with silver chairs on each side in perfectly straight rows; the end had been made to look as similar to a church as it could be. A red carpet had been rolled out down the aisle for her to walk on which ended on the second step up the small stage that had been created just for this. When she stood at the entrance, all eyes fell upon her in her flowing white dress. The bouquet was filled with red roses, heh, the flower of love, when she thought about it, it seemed so funny. There was no love on this occasion. When she began her walk down the aisle, she looked up into Cid's eyes; they held that same fear as she had had before. The fear that somehow everyone would find out this was all one big lie, to escape a fate neither wanted.

She had already convinced herself, however difficult it had been to do so, that that just simply wasn't possible. This crowd would believe anything you'd tell them, and they were utterly convinced that she and Cid were in love, and that was the thought they would always think from now on. She flashed him a smile that might hopefully give him more confidence in this moment, knowing most would misinterpret it as her being happy. She wasn't happy, she was marrying her best friend; it felt strange, if this wasn't her only choice she would be visually showing that weird feeling screaming to her in her poor head.

The only people she recognised in the crowd were her parents and Rygdia, and he was only there because their fathers were good business partners. Her mother, as she noticed, was acting like she hadn't been affected at all by their argument earlier. Well she had gotten her acting talent from somewhere hadn't she?

She reached the end at the aisle and stepped up onto the stage by Cid. It was peculiar that she still felt scared, even without love being a factor of the occasion. She wasn't a shy person for sure, but maybe no matter what a moment like this could freak anyone out. Luckily her mind blacked out so much after a minute for standing there, her ears blocked out the sound of voices almost completely, she more than once missed what the priest was saying, but it was fine as long as she heard what needed to be heard.

"Do you, Cid Raines, take Oerba Yun Fang as your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better; for worse, for richer; for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do you part?"

There was a quick pause as Cid struggled to get the words from out of his throat, "I do."

The priest turned his face to Fang,

"And do you Oerba Yun Fang take Cid Raines as your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better; for worse, for richer; for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

She looked at him as he gave her an expectant gaze, she found it almost unnerving coming from his old scrunched up face. So she switched it to Cid, who was giving a similar one, but she wasn't bothered from it coming from such a familiar face.

"I do."

…

The rest of the night went smoothly, and not even one person suspected a thing. Even those who noticed that little conversation Rygdia had with them at the start of the reception, no one heard it as he made himself quiet on purpose, but something was certainly off about it.

Fang was surprised at herself that she managed to keep calm, she even did when her gaze passed by her mother and she was reminded of their argument from earlier. She wondered if her father knew yet. By judging how he still looked so damn joyful at the moment, she took it as a no.

Cid was a little unsettled, but unless you were close to him; to which only a few in the room were, you wouldn't have even taken the slightest bit of notice.

Her plan had gone off perfect, only a little remained; that being them leaving this bloody place, but she was sure it would be fine from now on.

…

She was elated how fast that day did come, though they had planned to leave only a couple days after the wedding. They were heading to Cocoon, south Bodhum to be exact; Cid's father ran a small business there and using his connections he had secured getting them a house up there. She sat out on her house's porch as the last of the luggage was loaded onto the carriage. It was a two day's trip from Oerba to Bodhum, but a family friend had opted to let the newly-weds stay for one night at his house before they moved on.

She didn't know how to describe how she felt leaving this place; she was going to miss those she knew, excluding her parents who she was glad to be leaving behind. Bodhum would be a totally new experience for her, and she welcomed it with open arms.

"Leaving soon are you?" A familiar voice piped up from besides her, she tilted her gaze and was astounded to see Sazh standing by her with his back against a pillar.

"Sazh!" She shouted happily, getting up to stand by him.

"Just wanted to see you once before you leave is all, nothing wrong with that right?"

"'Course not, but guessing from how you said that you're not actually allowed to be here right?" She asked chuckling.

"Oh I'm supposed to be at the stables, on cleaning duty. But I decided this was better than cleaning up horse poop."

"Nice way to put it." She rolled her eyes.

Sazh joined in in a quick laugh, before continuing the conversation, "So I got told your dad's not letting you leave empty handed or something?"

"Yeah, said we need help with things, so we could pick any two slaves of our choice and they were to help us in our new home so we wouldn't have to go through with the trouble of finding maids and the like." She smirked at that.

"So you picked that Ben kid obviously?" He laughed,

"Well of course, makes you feel like they're playing right into my hands. Picked him and his big sister, her name's Jane if I can remember right." She clasped her hands together with a cheeky look.

"That'd be right." He chuckled dryly, "Well sorry to say but I've gotta get going, before anyone finds out I'm gone. Good luck alright?" He placed a hand on her shoulder. "And don't forget about your promise; you gonna rescue that girl?"

Fang gave him a melancholy smile. "Of course I will." She placed her hand atop his. "But could you promise me one more insane thing?"

"And what would that be?"

"That I'll see you again." She answered, looking up to his dark eyes with her begging ones.

"We'll see. That's up to life, alright?" And stepped back and gave her one last wave, before he walked around the corner of the massive home. She waved back, but he wouldn't have seen it.

"Fang!" She heard Cid call out, she looked his way curiously.

"Come on, we're going." He informed her.

"Right."

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><p><strong>Don't worry, it's still FLight and all that, her being married means nothing. Just saying for any fearful fans of the FLight match-up.<strong>

**I'm starting to think that my fans don't like me any more, I haven't gotten a review in so long. The only one that has is my sister but she's being nice because she knows the full extent of my paranoia. Seriously guys, so over 200 people read the last two chapters and not a single one had it in their heads to review? Do you understand how much that hurts me? I'm a paranoid idiot, sure I see the hits and views but without a review ****I feel like no one really cares, that they're just reading this so they have something to read. Be nice. And give me a review, concrit is welcomed, I know I deserve some at least, I'm not briliiant.**

**PS, I'm taking a break to plan out my stories and could you be nice and maybe read my big sister's stories, her name is 'seeker of the skies'. Also I like to see some more hits of my tragic masterpiece 'Wings of regret' and it'd be nice if you paid a visit to my new story that should be up in a couple of days, it's called 'innocent eyes'. But be warned that story is messed up.**

**Bye bye,**

**~Serah Villiers Valentine**


	9. chapter

**(2,700 words) I'm sorry if I haven't updated in awhile, I was being kinda slack with my writing, so here's a new chapter (that I wrote in one night)**

**My beta is having computer problems so she hasn't gone through this, I decided since it was short I should just read through it myself and then put it up. It makes it much easier than going through all the trouble to use a USB to get the files on her laptop then wait for her to actually be at school so she can give them back to me. she missed three days this week because she got a new dog (A four month old husky), I love him and he's awesome but he's an escape artist who just learnt how to jump the fence and so she's been looking after him.**

**And now this,**

**I CAUGHT THE MOTHERFUCKING HYLIAN LOACH MOTHERFUKER!**

**That didn't happen. Don't ask, 3 years worth of obsessing over a fictional fish is unhealthy. So you can expect what happens when you catch it full size. I rocked back and forth on the floor pouring my eyes out.**

**Hey is it weird if you walk into a classroom and your teacher has disappeared and some kid is screaming his head off and throwing chairs at another boy across the room who had to hide under the teachers desk for shelter. **

**That is all.**

**Disclaimer: I no own this.**

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><p><strong>9) (Insert name here because I have no bloody idea)<strong>

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><p>Claire was sitting on a loveseat in the house's front parlour; she had engrossed herself in a book to keep her thoughts away. Too much had gone on in the last month; her sister was married now, and had already moved away from Oerba, to a smaller city eastward. She'd promised to do her best to keep in touch; she meant through letters of course, the distance between them was too great for anything otherwise. It saddened her that she was gone, and with that oaf to add to it, but she tried to think it was better for her there. Tried.<p>

Maybe that didn't even count as the worst part of it all, her father was currently in service of the Pulsian army. Not out of choice of his own, all the blame could be placed on stupid conscription. He had been the unlucky one chosen, all his friends and business acquaintances had been much luckier and for them life went as normal. Sometimes such things just made you want to hit something, anything really, goddess another person would certainly suffice. Everyone was taking their luxurious lives for granted, and she could hate nothing more. How dare they act like everything was fine when they only got to where they were from the people they trampled?

And people wonder why she can't stand them. At least she had always known that this life could easily be taken away, why every day this house is under threat of Cocoonian soldiers attacking it. She'd heard it all before, a small group of soldiers, going against their commands running off and destroying anything they deemed worthy of punishment. A plantation ticked all those boxes.

How on earth her mother could act so fine and dandy was beyond her.

"So that's where you are?" A voice piped up from the doorway.

Claire looked up from the pages of her book to see an unfamiliar man looking right at her with what she'd call a smug and confident smirk gracing his features. He was dressed in very expensive clothes, not much different from what she usually saw when men visited, but he seemed a tad bit more extravagant than those other men. He had dark brown hair tied up into a short pony tail, and had a good height. He had this aura about him that made him seem so sure of himself that he could do anything and everything he wanted without fail. A bundle of papers rested in his arms, she had no reason to question it, her father's colleges were collecting papers from his office as they were too look after his businesses while he was gone.

This man seemed younger than all those other men, besides his comment nothing but his youth made her surprised to see him.

"Most men I see in this house's hair is already greying and falling out, someone with your appearance is certainly a mite unexpected." She replied in an attempt of politeness in hopes he'd leave quicker instead of having an argument like most would.

"Well that's to be expected, most of those men have failed to have a son to take over their business. Mine was lucky enough to have as you can clearly see. But to be more honest it is actually my father who was acquainted with yours. He has fallen sick of late and the doctor's sure he will not make it, so I'm taken care of all his affairs." He explained; she spotted how he was trying to simplify his words, she was a woman; she wasn't surprised. But that wasn't the main thing that caught her attention, but a simple word instead.

"Don't' say 'was', he's not dead yet, and neither is yours according to what you said." A spark of annoyance hit her so she returned her attention to her book. A thought told her that if he was to spot her lack of interest in the conversation he'd leave. But as she soon found out he wasn't interested in what she wanted.

"Heh; that slave girl told me you'd say such. A high voice she had, took me by surprise." He chuckled quietly, like seeing him express emotion might bring back her interest. If only he knew she never had it from the start. "I do think if only that girl's skin was like ours she'd be quite the beauty. It's a shame really."

She looked up again, this time her annoyance had made her do the opposite of what it'd made her do before.

"The colour of someone's skin does not dictate a person's beauty, it's only your refusal to admit that someone different to yourself can have it that stops you from seeing it." She responded and had to forcible keep her irritation from sounding in her tone.

She could spot his smile from the corner of her eyes.

"I was right to believe when your mother claimed you were a strange one." He let out a short laugh.

"That's what everyone says." She rolled her eyes.

"You shouldn't be so negative to yourself, I'd say interesting myself."

She raised an eyebrow, but he said no more, in fact he did nothing more but walk away.

Interesting? Strange has nothing to do with interesting, what on earth was going on in that mind of his?

* * *

><p>In the days after the short conversation with the unknown man, Claire found herself taking up the habit of walking aimlessly around the house. Even to this day she had trouble calling it hers; it had retained throughout the years a feeling of coldness and distance. She had no one who she could talk to sides Butterfly, and the young teen never faved talking. She only talked when she had too, or simply to scold someone. Everyone else disliked Claire greatly, and when she had no one but a shy girl she may as well have no one. Her mother would talk, but what interested her certainly didn't when it came to that woman, most every attempt at a chat ended as an argument between them. All because her mother was being herself or because Claire had chosen a topic that her mother valued as something only a man would dare talk about; apparently women shouldn't even understand one word of it and it was wrong for her father to teach her one bit. Calling it a silly thought didn't feel enough, but sometimes she felt wrong thinking so spitefully about her own mother.<p>

So with her being stuck in silence, wandering about the house was her last resort. Sadly escaping to her special place didn't help anymore, her memories would attack her if she ever dared. The only memory that couldn't be deemed bad whenever she thought of the place was that night from the party when god knows why some kid actually stayed and listened to her as she ranted on about all her annoyances. What was his name again? It was a girl's name she remembered that much at least, she'd originally found it funny. Oh it didn't matter anyway, she had high doubts they'd meet again. According to what her mother had informed her not even two nights back his father had made the choice to sell all his slaves and move up to Cocoon. Claire's mother had called it cowardice; she'd called it being smart. It was simple, either be killed brutally for the way you've been brought up or live in another place with an alteration or two and be forever safe.

Maybe she should tell her mother that multiple times when the soldiers had found women living at the homes they were attacking, they also raped them before killing them. Maybe, just maybe she'd begin to have worries. The common sense in her head told Claire that even hearing such a thing would still be unable to get through to her mother. She wouldn't call her thick, more delusional.

Claire sighed and took those thoughts away, she wasn't her mother; she knew if she dwelled on them too long she would indeed begin to feel worried. She had mental strength better than most women, but she was nothing in the physical aspect. If such a thing did occur, there would be nothing she could do.

She strode at a slow pace into the library; it was the most breathtaking part of the house in her eyes. Sure the ballroom was amazing, but not as elegant. If you were to stand in the middle of the doorway you would see book shelves that went as high as the roof and spanned for longer than the eyes could see. The room was all beautifully decorated in rich vibrant colours to add to its magnificence. Surely that was enough to make her mother love its appearance dearly, even if she had no care for what it was there for. She didn't doubt, that her mother had never read a book in her life, sometimes Claire wondered if she even knew how to read. There weren't many skills she had at all sides giving out orders, which she had mastered over the years for sure.

Claire took out a leather encased book from near the bottom of the shelves on the left side. It was close to the place she had taken out the one earlier a few days back. The group stacked in front of her were no more than simple fictitious novels. She didn't have as much interest in them as she did with the ones that covered more business related topics, but it was the closest she had to an escape right now, and she was glad for it. The last one had supplied extra entertainment because it was about a woman but written from a man's view. This was not the problem, he had written the female lead, though what she'd call cliché for lack of a better word, he had written her with startling accuracy. The way she was was racist, but sadly true, she was far too feeble and useless. Claire had gotten so annoyed by the main's personality that she had on more than one occasion where she had unwillingly been sucked in had begun yelling at the book, specifically at the fictional main. Poor Butterfly had walked in on one such occasion, perhaps it was right to feel at least sorry for her to a degree.

She took no more than three steps and sat down on a cushioned couch, one of three all placed in a circle around a glass-topped coffee table. She could only hope that she wouldn't encounter similar problems with the characters as she had before.

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><p>Claire stood in front of her dressing table's looking-glass, dressed in a cream nightgown. Glad the day was finally over; she'd gone through the day virtually without having to talk to her mother at all. The older woman had attempted to start a conversation at dinner time, but she'd been quick to shut her out and ruin that attempt. Nothing that came from her mouth was useful or worth her time. It was only ever complaining. Sometimes it was because she was being too stubborn, sometimes because she reckoned she was being so un-lady like. Whatever the cause, it always ended with her mother telling her that she believed that she would never get a husband. She simply could not believe that a daughter or hers could not want to have one; to her it was a need in a woman's life.<p>

"Ahem." A voice appeared from the doorway, well speak of the devil.

Claire turned to face her mother, who happened to still be fully dressed in today's attire. A surprise; because it was common for the woman to retired for the day before her daughter.

"What is it?" She asked in a poison laced tone, for she'd hardly be surprised if her mother's chosen topic was worse than usual.

The elder woman flinched at the tone, taken aback clearly, but doubting in her mind if she should be shocked at its almost random and unexpected use.

"You've avoided talking to me of late have you not Claire?" She asked rather simply, an anger hid at the back of voice, one she failed to hide.

"I'm amazed you noticed." Her daughter rudely gave a roll of her eyes and folded her arms, choosing to stare opposite her, instead of at her face. Claire's tone had held sure hints of sarcasm, yet it was serious at the same time. A sign that her mother was being looked down upon, how could she not feel insulted? When it came from one younger than her?

"Of course I noticed, you're my daughter, a mother knows their daughter! How could I not notice!?" She failed to keep her voice low, as it lifted close to a yell.

"A mother knows their daughter?" Claire repeated the words, mockingly. "That's not what I've learnt growing up." She scoffed.

Her mother's face flared red in anger. She was used to Claire's rudeness, but it never came out so fast, and so spitefully as well.

"How dare you!? Sometimes I really wonder if you understand anything that's said to you!" She screamed the sentence this time, now she didn't care at all if it be overheard.

Claire lifted up her face, to stare into her mother's blue eyes. The cheeks below them were a deep red, she hid a laugh, for a stupid reason yes, but the startling difference between her cheeks and blonde hair looked a mite hilarious.

"That's a common thought I have, for you of course." She replied in a voice showing close to no emotion. She wanted this over and done with, not to drag it out. Her mother chose a bad time. She was so tired.

If it was possible, the ageing woman's face became even redder than before.

"How can you be so mean!? I'm just trying to look out for you and you get like this!" She yelled at the top of her voice, as loud as possible.

Claire lifted an eyebrow at what she saw as an overreaction.

"Looking out for me? How so?" She inquired seriously.

"I don't want my daughter becoming some old maid, I don't want you to be lonely all your life." She started but was stopped by her daughters sigh and next comment.

"Oh not this again. You'll never accept that I don't want to be married? Why must you persist with this issue?" Anger flickered behind her blues eyes.

Her mother took a breath. "Because no woman should be alone, rich or poor alike. A woman is not complete until she has a man by her side." She answered in a begging tone.

"How can you think like that!?"

"How can you not!? Have you ever thought about getting a husband? That pretty face of yours will not last forever…what about that young man who was here a couple of days ago? He seemed nice, plus when I got talking to him he never said he believed you to be strange…"

"Oh wow, wanting to marry me off to a stranger, because that's what every mother wants. Anyway he said 'interesting', but that's just how he was choosing to say it. He still thinks I'm weird." She finished

"Oh come on Claire!" The older woman pleaded.

"Get out!" She raised her hand and pointed it to the double doors behind her mother.

She was shocked, and hurt. It all shone from her pitiful expression. But she gave up, and said nothing more. And luckily for Claire, she did listen to her for once, and walked out.

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><p><strong>I don't know what to call this...who wants to help me?<strong>

**Oh and if anyone noticed don't worry that I took FLight off the description, I just want to attract more Hope/Light fans because I have none.**

**If anyone is stupid enough to put in a review 'more FLight' I'm going to threaten you with discontinuing the story because frankly it's annoying as all god damn hell. If the match up is the only thing that's keeping you reading this story then be careful or I will hate you.**

**Thanks for all the reviews in the last chapter, that made me really happy, let's see if I can have the same luck as I did with my episodes on Flipnote Hatena and see if I can beat my record. Though I doubt I will because not allowing my fans to talk about FLight cuts it all down to only my sister reviewing (Can you understand now why the FLight fans are getting on my nerves?)**

**I recommend you read my darling 'wings of regret' because no one does and I tell you now it deserves popularity way more than this does.**

**~Serah Villiers Valentine**


	10. exploration

**(4,819 words) I've seen slacking with my writing, I could've updated this a week ago, but I was't writing it at all. Sorry for that, I finished this late night and intended to update in the morning, but my sister had the computer all day as she was watching Resident Evil and reading fanfiction.  
><strong>

**And there's something I should say which is what confuses me why I wasn't in the mood to finish this was I've wanted to say this for over a month now. I'm so so so sorry for what I said in the last chapter, I never meant to sound so mean. I forgot what I was going to say and settled for hate because I felt like that was what I was saying anyway but far more politely. I'm going to quote my big sister here from when we were talking about the negative reviews I got from you, **

**'This story is not a match-up story, it should not be judged for what match-ups are in it. It doesn't matter who the hell Lightning is with during the course of the story. It's about not being who people want you to be, who they say you have to be, it's about being who you want to be, to dance against the wind.**

**See? That was why it was annoying me, yes I'm happy for the 6000+ hits, yes I'm happy for the 38 reviews (Nine of which were a reaction to what I said last chapter and because of that being my record is why I'm not depressed) but I want people to talk about the story, not that Lightning NEEDS to be with a certain pulsian woman. I have severe paranoia, so I really want to hear people tell me that it is good, or if I need improvement, because otherwise I feel like I'm useless and that no one really cares at all**

**I'll shut up soon there's one more thing I have to say, two of those nine reviews were especially harsh. Two people decided to tell me that I'm stupid, worthless that this is the worst thing they've ever read, I should definitely discontinue this because this absolutely horrible. Apparently I'm also the worst writer on the site, which I know is incorrect because yes I'm not the best, but hey, I'm a 15 year old ninth grader living in Australia who's only been writing for a year, but I've found people far worse than me. You can trust me on that one. Just one question for these people, if you hate me and my story so much, why were you reading it to the ninth chapter? That's 40000 words!**

**I'm confused. Not trying to be mean. But something doesn't add up here.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own FFXIII, I'm just writing this.**

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><p><strong>Chapter: Exploration<strong>

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><p>The carriage pulled up in front of a grand house late afternoon just as the sun began to set. Fang put her head out the window, the cool wind made her raven hair whip around her face. The house was large, not as big as hers had been, but still large all the same. It blocked out the sun and cast it in shadow; it was of a magnificent design, and by appearance was far more pristine than the mansion she had grown up in.<p>

Fang whistled, laughed then put her head back in. "Didn't expect it to look like that." She chuckled, "Your dad likes spending money doesn't he?"

"If you've met the man, surely you would've known that already." Cid sighed, the man he called his father was obsessed with his riches. If he had the opportunity to buy something he'd buy the most extravagant thing money could buy, nothing was excluded. Sickenly enough most people living in wealth were just like the man, no understanding of the word restraint.

The doors opened with a slight creak, the room was covered mostly in darkness, with the exclusion of small spots close to the windows lit up a bright fiery orange. Fang took a quick look around the room, taking in the new place, before sitting down on the last step. She waited for the others to enter. Sheerly because of how glad she was to have finally gotten out of the carriage she'd been stuck in all morning, she had gone at a far faster pace than the others. Of course to do that she had to lift up the ends of her godforsaken dress, she got so envious of men sometimes, it must be tonnes easier to move about in pants. Unfortunately she didn't doubt that if she ever wore a pair people would value her as crazy.

"Are you excited?" A high-pitched voice asked from the doorway, Fang looked up to see the girl, Jane, who was previously one of her father's slaves who they had been partly forced to take her with them. She was chosen for the simple reason she was Ben's sister and it would make it less complicated with it being her instead of anyone else. From what little Fang had been told of the teenager was that she and her older brother were quite like twins, despite the difference of a good couple years. She could never dare to judge her brother, so it was clear she wouldn't be able to judge the man she worked for.

"Cid was thanking the driver; my brother chose to help with the bags. I would have but I know I've never been a strong one, and he did warn me I probably wouldn't even get them off the ground." Jane tried an attempt of a smile, it worked but felt sad. Obviously she was bothered by her physical weakness, but was strong enough in the other sense to try to not let it bother her.

Despite her expression Fang couldn't help but laugh over something completely different the young girl wouldn't have even noticed she'd done.

"Umm." She stuttered as her mouth couldn't form the question running about in her head.

"I'm sorry." Fang waved her hand as she tried to stop herself, but the act of trying to stop just made her laugh more. "It just took me by surprise when you called him 'Cid'. Seems really friendly is all, even I didn't call him by his first name when we first met."

Jane nodded in understanding, "I was calling him sir but he said he'd rather I not say it as the word reminds him of his father. All that I've been told of him is that he has quite the ugly personality. And even besides that fact it'd still be fine considering his relationship with my elder brother."

"Right." Fang agreed on the last part and stood up just as the other two entered. She smiled her usual Fang smile and had to comment on how tired her husband was looking now.

"You look like you could fall onto a bed and sleep for a thousand years." She chuckled and rested her head on the balustrade, she was feeling like sleep was a nice idea too, even so early as it was, but not near as bad as Cid seemed to.

"Blame last night's little distraction." He rubbed his face, he was talking seriously but her laughing didn't stop and her smile didn't falter. Because of the distance they had to travel, a business partner of her father had offered to let them stay the night at his manor, thanks to it being fairly close to what would be considered the half-way mark. What was not mentioned was that he and his wife had just had a new baby and the boy had not stopped crying the entire night. Fang had luckily all throughout her life lived in a room at the back of her house, and on a quiet night, the slave's quarters were easy to hear. Babies crying were not uncommon, and it usually would be more than one that she'd have to deal with. So that baby from last night hadn't kept her up at all and she'd had a fine sleep. It was questionable why she felt tired at all.

Cid eyed her happy face with slight annoyance, she could have at least tried to seem sorry; but this was Fang, he'd known the woman his entire life, far too jovial for that.

Fang was chuckling quietly to herself for some while. Her mind had wandered off the conversation, but not off the track and remained on similar things. She had gotten so distracted by her thoughts as she stood at the bottom of the stairwell that she failure to notice anyone leaving the room until Jane walked into her line of sight, and broke through her trance. When she finally looked around, it was only them in the room.

Jane looked remarkably like her elder brother, but with a feminine figure and a child's face. Her eyes seemed so bright, even more now that the last rays of burning sunlight reflected in her dark eyes. She leaned on the window sill on and put a dainty hand against the glass, smiling calmly.

"Pretty is it?" Fang asked, not too sure how else to start a conversation with a woman she hardly knew.

She nodded, widening her smile a crack. "I've never lived in a house that wasn't about to break apart. Your dad got mean sometimes for sure. Whatever we had we made ourselves and what we had was never good enough for what we were trying to use it for. It just feels weird, being in a completely different environment you know?"

"Yeah, I can understand. I know it's probably not as weird for me seeing as I always got to live in unneeded extravagance, but the different environment, I do at least fully understand that." Fang sat down on the step, holding her legs closer with her arms, dresses were not comfortable to wear when you always tried to sit in the positions she always tried to. So the one she was in now was one she quite commonly got stuck doing.

She sighed and laid back, she wasn't bothered when the step above dug into her back. The room seemed small to her, but to Jane it must've been amazing seeing as this alone was bigger than the house she grew up in. The double doors that made the entrance were wooden just like the ones back home. On the side were large windows with cushioned sills big enough and low enough to use as seats and had purple silk curtains decorating the sides. Directly in the middle was the staircase, made of the same white stone as the floor. The rails were made of wood, a darker one than the door was made of. To the sides of said staircase were doors, one of both sides. She was yet to know what was beyond them. It was clear enough to her that the rest of the home was situated at the top of the stairs.

"Do you think you'll be treated any better now because of Cocoon not legally having slaves?" Fang asked as the subject passed by in her head. It was because of that law that they were here now, and so they could be as far away as their relatives as possible. It made things less complicated and much easier.

Jane looked back at her like she had been frightened, the question seemed sudden to her, by appearance it looked to be she didn't know how to answer. But Fang's thoughts were proved wrong when not a minute later she was given the answer the girl before her believed in.

"I really wonder that. Frankly I'm still having trouble getting it through my head that I'm not considered a slave anymore, that I'm more simply a 'maid' now. Truly I would love to be treated fairer, you and Cid shall, that I don't doubt, but for others I'm still made to wonder. I've been told, that despite having a war started over the issue of slavery, that even in Cocoon my kind have it rough." She replied solemnly.

Fang frowned at the response, a part of her mind was agreeing with Jane yes, but really hearing it said that way made something feel wrong. Who would declare war on their own country to make certain individuals life easier and more humane, when you still treat them like they were no better than common fiends?

"You know what, if someone goes about treating you like shit, I'll shoot them how 'bout that?" She decided.

Jane blinked at the odd decision, "Um, shoot them Miss? But where on earth would you get the gun? By being a woman you're still considering inferior yourself, I don't understand how you could get your hands on one. The way you said it made it seem easy." She stumbled with her words, she had had a fair warning that the raven haired Pulsian had her strange moments, but this was the first time she'd gotten to see it.

"Hmm…" Fang put her hand to her chin on thought, "I could go steal one easy enough, guess I'll just figure it out when that time comes."

Jane nodded, still feeling a mite weirded out by her, but trying not to let it show by convincing her mind that this was normal whilst truly knowing it to be quite the lie.

She blinked and tilted her head up when Fang stood up and began making her way up the stairs, "Miss?"

"I'm going to explore the house; I'm going to do what I didn't do last time, make sure that I never get lost in my house after living in it for years. Don't want to do that again." She reached the top and turned back one last time. "Oh right, I'd like to explore town tomorrow, would you mind coming with me? Something tells me a woman walking round a strange place all by herself is an incredibly stupid idea and I'm going to let the boys be by themselves for a bit. It's the fair thing."

"You'd like me to come with you?" Jane repeated it like it was the most impossible thing she'd ever heard. "I'd love to, thank you miss!"

"Call me Fang next time okay? I see you later." She was told before the other disappeared around a corner and went out of sight.

Jane smiled pleasantly to herself, she was strange but at least she was a nice person. She ran up the stairs with the intention of turning in, as like the others, she'd hardly gotten a wink of sleep. But it was just as she found a vacant bedroom, something hit her and she confused herself over how she failed to notice it before,

Did Fang just say she got lost in the same house she'd lived eighteen years of her life in?

* * *

><p>Fang's exploration of her new house took a smaller amount of time than she had initially believed it would. The house was of the same simple design all over; the floors on the top floor were wood planks, whilst the walls were plaster. Windows dotted the wall ever now and then, letting in the same orange light she'd been greeted with downstairs. She found a handful of spare bedrooms and two bathrooms. When she returned to downstairs she opened the door on the right first, finding the dining room and the kitchen behind it. The left door led to a long sitting room, with it'd left wall consisting of on large window filling the room to the brim with shining rays of sunlight. A row of empty bookshelves took up the full length of the right wall. This would be the type of room that normal people would invite guests for tea and to chat. But Fang predicted as she was not that type she'd sit in it all day and have conversations with herself. A habit she'd always had, usually deemed insane.<p>

Just as she went searching for a vacant room to sleep she came across a miniscule room with one tiny window near the roof, and books scattered all over. Obviously left from the previous owner; she shrugged it off believing she wouldn't have a reason to enter there again. She found a suitable room just down the hall from it. It wasn't that she felt tired, more for the sake of being lazy and bored did she choose to go to bed this early. She could feel pangs of hunger but they went ignored as she climbed into the covers and slept.

* * *

><p>The sun lit up the room from a window on the left wall. It had no curtains and so the occupant was left to suffer all of the yellow orb's fury as a rude awakening. Fang turned in the sheets and shielded her face from the bright room, all looked white each time she opened her eyes. She got up into a sitting position but used the thin sheet to make things appear darker and as an extra precaution she kept her head turned to the right, opposite to the damned window. She blinked twice and slowly removed the sheet and lowered it back down. She couldn't remember a morning as bright as this; her surroundings still looked off to her. Either she'd slept in late or the sun rose earlier here. She took the later as considering she hadn't been tired the day before there was no reason for her to stay asleep for a long period of time.<p>

She shook her head to get her ruffled locks off her shoulder; she regarded her hair in the morning as nothing but a raven puffball. She stretched, yawned and rubbed her eyes as she become more awake. The bed had been more comfortable than she'd expected, it had been an enjoyable sleep. Fang flopped back down on the covers, limbs outstretched lazily.

She yawned again and pushed back the hair that had landed on her face. She didn't particularly feel like getting up at all today, but the pangs of hunger she had felt before her rest had turned into a growling monster.

Reluctantly she hopped up onto her feet. Fang finger brushed her hair to make it look a semblance of neat, she could never get the mess to ever become such. But she could improve it greatly from its current puffball state; even if she was too idle to find a brush.

Luckily Fang had been lazily enough to sleep in her clothes that night, it had made the sleep a tad unpleasant at times; she was rather lucky the bed itself was good or that night would have been a horror. Even if she was one of those annoying type of girls that were so obsessed with appearance, she still wouldn't have checked her appearance in the mirror, mainly because one didn't exist in the room. Which had surprised Fang Some considering that if everyone cared so much about how they looked like wouldn't they choose to have mirrors everywhere so they could know if they still looked good? Plenty of people she'd met before were like that, her mother for example.

Fang left the room after that thought, she could hear sounds coming from downstairs and curiosity made her head in that direction. When she reached the stairs, it occurred to her the sounds were coming to the left of her, through the door she had found an elaborate looking dining room. Her curiosity left in an instant, it was nothing peculiar at this point of the day. Surely if anyone else was awake they'd be staving? It was common self wasn't it?

Fang entered through the door to see a glimpse of Jane's small form. She strode forward and found her in the kitchen cooking up herself breakfast. A full minute past before the teen took notice of her presence,

She had turned around almost absentmindedly, going to reach something Fang predicted from going off the looks, but Jane paused midway when she noticed the Pulsian woman staring at her with mild interest.

"Ah, Fang, I didn't notice you were there! I'm sorry I didn't wake you did I? I was really hungry and I really couldn't wait for the others to wake. If I did I apologise so-"

"Quick to apologise aren't you?" The other laughed, one which turned into a sigh halfway through. "Don't act like that; I wouldn't go off at you even if you did wake me up. No the sun decided it'd give me the rude wake-up call it always does." She smiled at the end.

Jane blinked at the odd choice of words, "The…sun…um." She shook her head and got to saying what she'd intended to, "I'm sorry; it's just a habit of mine."

"An instinct?" Fang interrupted.

Jane looked up from her fiddling fingers, again curious and confused over the raven hair's choice of words. "Why would you say it's an instinct? I don't understand." She questioned in a timid voice.

"I don't really think it's the type of thing I'd call a habit. I mean your whole family's been treated roughly by my stupid relatives. It's an instinct because every time you've made a mistake or done something wrong you've had someone going off their head at you for it. You expect to be reprimanded so completely that the words must be coming out without you thinking them."

Jane nodded and put a finger to her lip in thought, humming to herself softly. "Do you like helping people?"

Fang shrugged her shoulders and scratched her head. "I don't think it's that. I just hate jackasses. It was my sister who liked to help."

She looked back to Jane when she heard a soft giggle.

"What?" She asked, puzzled over the teen's reaction.

"Vanille right? I don't remember her very well. But I recall she was very nice." Jane paused and lowered her eyes, thinking back to what memories she did retain. "But Master Oerba told us she died, a sickness he claimed but no one could remember her being sick." When she lifted up her gaze back to Fang's she was startled by her shocked and horrified expression.

"HE SAID WHAT!" She yelled, Jane put her hands to her ears to weaken the sound, but it failed to work well. The woman had screamed fairly loud.

"The bastard, she continued, ignoring the perplexed and slightly terrified face of the young girl in front of her. "I can't believe that man. Loves his lies don't he?"

"Um Fang, what really happened?" Jane tried to interrupt, and flinched when she got Fang to look her way. She could hear a sigh, probably the response to Jane's overreaction.

"Started just from an innocent little question father asked, 'who's your best friend?' Simple right, well apparently not when you name one of your father's slaves. So the bastard shipped her off to a mental asylum to live out her life because both he and his wife sincerely thought she was off her rocker." Fang clenched her fists tightly, even mentioning it pissed her off. It was her parents who had lost it, the delusional freaks.

Jane bit her lip, not sure how she should be responding, "I'm sorry, that's horrible."

"It's alright." Fang stopped her right there. She bit her lip hard when tears decided it would be a good idea to fall, she wasn't a weak person; she refused to let them fall in the presence of another.

"Because I'm going to find her and get her out of there." She self-assuredly stated.

"You're a very confident person aren't you?" Jane asked, after hearing the tone of her statement.

Fang smirked, her previous emotions evaporated, "I wouldn't be me if I wasn't."

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><p>As promised the day before, When Fang left the house mid-morning she took Jane with her, the contents of their last conversation forcefully forgotten. It seemed to be the kind of thing that would put one in a sour mood. The house was situated on the edge of north Bodhum, in an area covered in small hills. South Bodhum was far worse as she'd heard, but that was obvious enough as it did happen to have a multitude of gold mines scattered about. The trees were a deep vibrant green, as was the grass. The minute that she left the house that had caught her attention; she had grown up living in a region with leaves being pea-green and yellow green, her surroundings looked like they had something wrong with them to her. Jane laughed at her constant comment on it as they walked into town. Though not knowing very much about it she thought it was because the leaves had a shorter lifespan because they fell off in the winter. But Fang made a strange statement on that as well, Jane was clueless if it meant she agreed with her or not, calling Pulsian leaves stronger and Cocoonian ones scared of the cold didn't actually make sense.<p>

Eventually she was able to get the woman off the topic as each sentence was beginning to make less and less sense of what little sense they had in the first place. Jane felt relief hit her as they reached town, for the green that had started the conversation was replaced with the pale brown of wooden planks. Bodhum was originally a small town, but when its massive deposits of silver and gold were found, men from all over came to get their hands on a chance of riches. And in turn, the town gradually grew to support them. As time went on more people came for the business opportunities in the bustling township. As few miners got lucky, rich people began living in Bodhum as well; so many large mansions were built for them. To add to those numbers a number of advantaged people also moved up to live in North Bodhum. But no matter what, the town still showed its roots of a mining town everywhere you looked. It didn't have stone roads and streetlamps that didn't have to use a candle, its road were dirt and its paths were basic planks of wood lined up against the buildings, made of the same material.

Though bigger than what she was used to since where she lived everywhere was far apart, Fang found that the place seemed smaller than her expectations. The main road was the first place she came across, and when she did Jane stayed closer to her than before, Fang couldn't blame her for being uncomfortable under white men's looks; she'd heard some nasty stories herself. The main road had a few general stores littered here and there. Fang's assumption was that this part of town was for the miners and poorer citizens.

When she and Jane took a left she found herself slowly falling into the area clearly for the rich. She couldn't help but feel bothered by the fact that she knew that she was right in the middle of the usual rat-faces she always had to deal with. Even more so for the looks they were giving to Jane, who with worry walked at her heels, scared to be any further away. It was sickening how this people could be so against slavery, but at the same time be revolted to view people different to them as equal. It made you doubt their ability to think.

She forced herself not to look into their disgusted expression. She only wanted to map out the town, nothing more. She was glad that there wasn't much in this section of town. Only a couple of restaurants, and the small theatre she noticed as way as the little pub and lady's lounge adjacent.

When she left those couple of streets, she decided to end her exploration there, she knew there was another part she'd left to touch but even from a glance you'd know it was a place to avoid. It was the 'bad part' of town to put it nicely. She guessed that from not only the shady looking men she could quite clearly see, but for the places that looked to be something along the lines of a whorehouse. She knew well that they existed here but she had decided from the start not to even dare step upon same ground. Just as Fang was leading Jane back to the house, Fang was distracted by angry yelling coming from the closest building. Now this was a very normal thing yes, but not so when it was a woman doing the yelling. Fang read the name plastered on the wall besides the door, 'Rose Lovers'. It from what she could see and hear inside that it was a saloon, but judging from the name, it would be no surprise if it was a whorehouse as well.

She shrugged it off, it there was any woman in there they would certainly be no 'lady'. One screaming her head off didn't seem too strange an idea now. But just as she was about to leave a woman's voice with hints of anger called out to her,

"Oi, Pulsian girl! Have you seen a blonde haired man around here?" Fang turned on her heel to see a woman not much older than her standing at the doors of the place she was getting away from. Her black hair was tied up with roses to make a messy beehive shape on her head, the dress she wore was stretched out and hung on the sides of her shoulders, and she held the bottom of her dress so high her knees were visible. Behind her Jane's eyes opened wide at the woman being so unconcerned about her revealing outfit, but Fang might as well have not noticed at all. In fact she found her confidence amusing that she dared to wear such around here, you could tell from looking at her, this woman wasn't a common whore.

"I've seen to many guys, go look yourself lazy." Fang answered lazily before finally getting her chance to leave and forcefully dragged Jane with her. In the background she could hear the woman laughing cheerily, leaving Jane confused, and Fang not one bit surprised.

"Well hello to you to lazy, I'm Dẻteste, pleasure to meet you!" She screamed sarcastically whilst laughing like a mad man. Fang smirked. Something about that woman had strangely reminded her of herself; she couldn't put her finger on it. Maybe she'd gotten it from her stance, but she had an amazing confident aura about her. Despite the fact that whore or not, this 'Dẻteste' would have no good occupation, she wouldn't mind meeting her again.

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><p><strong>I'm sorry the top note was long, but that apology needed to be said. I felt really bad about it.<strong>

**Random fact, I find it awesome that Gangnam style has gotten 220 millions views, I'm a K-pop fan, so for a person like me that's awesome considering the previous K-pop record on youtube was 50 million**

**Well hope you liked this chapter, I'm glad for the reviews I've been given whether they were nice or not. More would be a very nice thing, let's just hope I don't have a repeat of last time.**

**Jya ne**

**~Serah Villiers Valentine**


	11. Selling your soul to the devil

**(16,241 words) No I didn't write something wrong, I did somehow manage to own my record by 6000 words, and by sister's by 3000. So as a reward for the longer time it took to update, here is the longest chapter I have ever written.**

**4000, 3000, 1800, 1500, 2000, 2000. I went OCD and tried remembering how much I wrote each day, and if that doesn't add up (Can't be bothered to do the maths) it means I've missed a day.**

**I got 52% on my maths test, 64% on my science test and 79% on my History test. According to Arianna that's crap. Long story short I went crazy, and my compulsive desire of writing this as quickly as I could didn't help, I got really frustrated and on the day I wrote only 1500, I was walking around my house screaming and pulling my hair. At one point I threw an empty skate board box at my wall.**

**If anyone wants to help my sanity, I recommend you review. This took me four hours to edit! I need the win, before I lose it.**

**Does anyone want to be my beta reader, because my friend is currently and she's not as good as she said she was. If I have six mistakes, she'll get rid of them and replace them with ten of her own. They're not grammatical errors like what I do, but she rewrites the sentence and switches around pronouns which changes the meaning completely. She's done it to a previous chapter, the pronouns thing I mean, ten times in all and I know I didn't find all the mistakes.**

**and oh before I forget, I'm not to be held at fault for anything in this chapter. If it seems like it happened too fast, that was on purpose because than you can better feel what the character is feeling.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own this.**

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><p><span>11) Selling your soul to the devil<span>

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><p>Claire hastily shut the doors to her bedroom, and locked herself in. Though lasting not long over a minute she had had yet another argument with her mother, this time over breakfast. Her mood was certainly bad, but not enough she was tempted to hurt someone like she usually was. The amount of restraint she used on herself at those times was painful. Even so, she favoured the idea of being left alone; especially now. Two letters had come in, from her father and sister, and thankfully the one to retrieve them was one of the few slaves that preferred her over her dreadful mother -They still found her just as an oddity as everyone else, but liked her for her lack of racism- so he gave the letters to her, instead of the replacement head of the house.<p>

They were addressed to her as she found out, but she didn't feel surprised one bit upon opening them. She knew her sister adored her, and it was her that her sister intended her promise of writing whenever she could for. Her father must've known she would worry far more than her mother could, his wife, whether or not she loved him, was not one to worry herself over a situation like his. That woman was too concerned about her daughter's situation than to be concerned that her dear husband, the one that kept her in riches and gave in to her every material desire, might die soon. There was a good reason Claire believed her to be the crazy one.

She had taken a seat on the cushioned chair by her dressing table. She'd opened her father's first, finding it short, but it comforted her to know he was doing fine, for the moment at least.

_Dear Light, _

She blinked in surprise finding he had used her nickname, but her surprised quickly subsided. Of course he would.

_Don't you or your mother worry about me; I've yet to be deployed into the fight. Though the need for men is high, they won't let untrained men on the field, it is suicide and they may as well not have used such men at all. I'll be deployed soon, but don't fret yourself I promise you I'll be fine. I won't die and leave you all alone; I know plenty that for you your mother is no company at all. I hope you're doing good and aren't having too much trouble with others, try not to get angry at them all the time, you don't have to agree with them on everything but being polite is a good thing._

_I'll send a letter to your sister after this, _

_Love, your father._

She sighed, wishing it had been longer. But there was nothing she could do about it, he was doing fine and that was what mattered. Right after she ripped open the envelope that enclosed her sister's, it was longer, and it was easy to imagine her ecstatic sister sitting right next to her excitedly blabbing on with all the details of her new life.

_Dear Claire,_

_I've settled right in here, the house is a little bit smaller, well a lot smaller actually but I still adore it. It's beautiful; every little spot is beautiful, inside and outside. Even all the surrounding houses are magnificent. Spending my life here sounds wonderful I think; the people are wonderful too. I've managed to befriend women for once; finally now that I have someone they don't have the crazy idea I'm out to steal theirs. They all had really close bonds, but I've just blended right into the group and now I feel it's like I was there from the beginning, they're really are such wonderful women, so nice. It's what I never had back in Oerba._

_I know you hate him but Snow has been a splendid husband and I know he's not going to hurt me. You seem to disregard the fact we've been friends for years before now, I know what he's like; I know he wouldn't ditch me for the next pretty girl he saw walking by. It's not healthy to constantly think like that. He adores me, I'm his princess, and he's never going to abandon me no matter what you think. I'll agree he's a hot head but he is a good guy and you really should've tried to understand that._

_The only thing I miss is having you with me, I know you didn't have any interest in anything I ever talked about, but because you loved me you'd still listen to my every word just like I would with you. I'm sure we both didn't have any idea about what we were saying, but I wish I could have one of those conversations again If only one more time. I miss mother and father aplenty too of course, but I always felt I was closer to you than them, and though I'd love to see them so much I'd love to see you all the more._

_Now I hope you're not having many arguments with mother, there's a limit to what she can take which I'm sure you've passed on more than one occasion; but please be nice. If she says something you don't like, don't go off your head. Be silent, pretend to lose your voice halfway through a sentence if you have to! I hated seeing you fight all those time. And if she keeps up with the idea that you have to marry, don't use that to get into another fight, please. Though I'd love to see you get married, and yes I'm free to hope for a miracle, I'm not going to be on you constantly about it. Just remember you and mother can't see eye to eye, you're two different kinds of people, it's just not possible._

_Try to be nice,_

_Sincerely you elated sister, Serah._

Claire let out a quiet scoff, though very different letters, they had the same message. 'Stop fighting with your mother', didn't they know that was impossible? As long as they were stuck in the same house, as long as they knew each other, they would argue; that was that. She sighed quietly, and eyed the window, outside was sunny and clear, bird whistled happily.

Why now did she feel no want to go to her special place? She always went there, when she felt like nothing was worth it, or when she had nothing or no one there. But now she had not a single thought or feeling propelling her there. It was a habit she didn't want to give up, but when these thoughts appeared another was at its heels saying _don't go_. It was stupidity at its best that she didn't know her own thoughts.

Was it the blurry memories of the times Serah went there with her? Or the memories of her mother or a slave finding her there and yelling at her for making a mess of herself in the mud and long grass?

She didn't know, maybe it didn't matter either.

With a huff she jumped up from her seat, leaving the letters as is on the table, she'd inform her mother of them later, it wasn't her they were addressed to anyway. She would go back to the library seeing as she had nothing else. She was halfway through an intriguing book; she might as well finish it. She'd left it on the glass coffee table at the back of the grand library, like she always did so she wouldn't lose it in this house of extravagance.

The skirt of her baby blue and black dress spun at her sharp turn, and the hair Butterfly had styled against her will swirled and bounced against her slender neck. In mere seconds she was out the door, and hurrying to the library in an unlady-like manner.

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><p>A single bird resting on the window sill sung a repetitive song of chirps and tweets whilst Claire rested back on the soft and comfortable cushioned couch chair. She was deeply engrossed in the book and despite the small bird's constant song she failed to become annoyed. The world about her may as well be silent, for she was deaf to it at the time being; the ray of golden sunlight that rested on her leg and left it considerably hotter than the rest of her body which lay in the shadows; also went unnoticed.<p>

Novels were a wonderful thing she found, and in a short time had gained quite a liking of them. They were a sweet escape from her life, no matter how bad the circumstances got in the story itself. The characters could go through hell and back in a constant loop and still she could feel better. She felt refreshed when she put the book down, for she didn't exist in that world, she didn't need to worry about her life, or her problems. It made things perfect if only for a little while.

The book she held in her hands was a man's world written by a man, it was clear, and how it belittled woman was the most important clue. At some parts the way the male characters spoke of the women she found herself so annoyed by them she mumbled to herself death threats directed to them. They were fictional she knew, but she found herself not being able to help herself at all. The females characters, Claire found, were more obnoxious than the men. They followed their stereotype to a T, and though she enjoyed the story, that got on her nerves to no end.

The characters led bad lives, and it made her feel better about herself because it showed her things could be worse, much worse. The main's little sister so far had been forced into marriage after her father died, and it was her brother's fault it happened. And after that her husband became abusive because she repetitively gave him daughters. It got even worse when she was raped by his friend and he found out and accused her of being a whore, and caused her to go into premature labour. And when she did have the child they died at birth, and when he found out if the baby had survived it would have been his first son, so he beat her again.

It was no understatement to say their lives were far worse than hers. However the writer had continued to write it so easily was beyond her.

It was afternoon by the time she finished. The window outside showed a glorious orange sky, dotted with lilac clouds with birds flying by offering their song. Claire lifted herself from the chair and returned the book to its place in the adjacent shelf. She exited the library at a leisurely pace, feeling no hurry to get to anywhere right this moment. She truly had nothing to do now, so she guessed, though she knew if her mother walked in she'd allege her of being lazy, she was going to take a nap.

She ascended each step carefully, so she had no fear of the ends of her dress tripping her. She took a left turn and headed directly for her room. The floor boards creaked at all the usual places, the light of the afternoon dotted the floor below her feet in a shade of orange where a window was above. She got to the dark wooden double doors that led her to her destination, with no trouble at all. Not expecting what she would have to deal with when inside.

When she swung them open and saw her mother sitting on the end of her bed, her expression bitter and mouth drawn to a line, her eyes went wide.

"What are you doing in my room, get out!" Claire Yelled, anger flaring up immediately. It was instinct when it came to the woman before her.

But she did not yell, or pull a hurt or irritated face. She stared at her; her expression was bitter, it was angry, it was holding back something that begged to be let out. All together it made it almost unreadable; her exact emotion at current time could not be predicted.

"Are you deaf?" She hissed, "Get out of my room you old hag!"

This time she winced, but her mouth stayed as a thin line, with a million different emotions fighting for supremacy in her blue eyes. Slowly, she got up off the bed, her arms crossed.

"Claire, I will not yell at you today. I hardly see the point any more, it will get neither of us anywhere, I'm sure you've realised by now you raising your voice against me is pointless. So be quiet and listen to me." She paused and eyed her to check if she was truly listening. Believing she was, she continued, "Sit down on the bed, we have something to discuss. You don't have to like it, it's fine to hate it. All I want is you to listen. You hear?"

Claire nodded, her eyes a mite curious as to what she wanted to speak about. Anger lingered in both their eyes, but for now they were to be civil. She complied and took a seat on the edge of the bed, sitting right where her mother had.

"Look, this is something you'd need to be told eventually, it's not something that can be left alone and ignored; especially since it involves you." Her mother began seriously.

Her daughter gave a slight nod in response, and patiently waited for more.

"You remember that man from before? I believe he interrupted you from your reading. That was what he said at least."

"The one that said I was 'interesting'?" Claire said in a mocking tone, "Of course I'm not stupid like you."

Her mother swallowed a lump that was forming in her throat before she went on.

"He's asked me in place of your father for you hand in marriage." She stated sincerely with a solemn expression.

For a moment, her daughter didn't react. The words pounced on her thoughts and consumed them, but her mind turned to screaming and refused to let her understand. It was too much to take in all in that one moment. Her face turned blank from outright shock, her voice forgot how to work, and all she got out was a simple,

"What?" It sounded frail, a whisper that was barely there.

"He asked for your hand in marriage, and I said yes." She repeated, and added as well the rest of it, which put her daughter into a deeper shock.

She always knew that if she didn't even make the attempt to get married by herself, her mother would do it for her. Because her father wasn't here, it made it so easy for her mother to do what she wanted, he wanted for Claire to get married, but out of her own free will. She always knew an arranged marriage was something that would happen somewhere down the line, but a little tiny part in the corner of her mind hoped it wouldn't have to happen.

"How can you do that?" She asked in a voice no less weak after what had felt like an eternity of silence.

"Because I'm not letting my daughter become some old maid, every woman needs a man to guide them." Her voice was stern, she was dead-set about what she was saying; these were her thoughts.

Claire's head fell to her hands, and she dug her fingers into her fringe and pulled. She held back a sob, she was stunned by this woman, by what she was doing and saying; but she refused to let herself cry, yes it hurt that her own mother would marry her off to a stranger without a care, but she wouldn't dare let herself cry in front of her. She wasn't weak.

As she struggled to keep it all back, her sniffling made her body shook, and when she tried to speak her voice cracked,

"How can you think that way? Think like we're useless and can't do anything?" She stopped so she could stop a falling tear before the other noticed it was there, "The only reason you can't do anything is because you never tried. I'm not you; I don't need someone to lead me around. I'm not some lost puppy that doesn't know what to do!" On the last part she lifted her head to glare daggers at her mother. But it showed her the tears that edged her eyes; and her red face after she had tried to keep them in. She broke then, and her head fell back to her hands to try to hide her sobs.

It didn't do anything, her mother would still see her shaking, her wet hands. But she did nothing to comfort her, to help her.

She really didn't care, so she watched and waited for the time she'd calm down, acting like this was nothing.

"I don't know his name! I don't even know anything about him! How could you do this you old hag!?" She screamed.

Her mother's face expressed nothing, not even pity. But it was clear she was very annoyed, she raised her hand and slapped her angered daughter across her cheek. claire caught herself with her right arm, her left feeling the red mark forming where she'd been hit. Staring dumbfounded at her mother.

"Shut up; don't ever speak to me like that again. This is for the best, he has money beyond your wildest dreams; you will thank me someday."

She glared for one last second before storming out and leaving her there.

Claire jumped up off the bed, and ran to the door; she grabbed the handle and screamed at her mother's form speeding down the hallway.

"I'll never thank you! Die horribly and rot in hell you stupid ugly old hag!" She pulled with all her strength on the handle to slam it, but just before it closed, a person who she hadn't known was there put in their arm and leg to stop the door from closing. She jumped from the sudden appearance, and heard now who she recognised as a man groaning in pain.

"Didn't expect you'd be able to shut it with such force; that hurt." He griped.

Claire stepped back and let the man open the door properly and come inside. When she saw it was the man from the other day, her mind caught up and she glared at him. "You should've made your presence known; that was mighty rude a thing to do eavesdropping like that."

The stranger shrugged, "Nothing wrong with wanting to know how my fiancé reacted to hearing of the proposal." He eyed her red tear-stained face, "Not as well as I would've liked."

"I'm not your fiancé, my mother said yes not me!"

"But you don't have any control in the matter now do you? You're just the daughter of a plantation owner. It doesn't matter what you do you will never have any power or control over anything. His money has nothing to do with you." He smirked confidently.

She narrowed her eyes, "Shut up, I'm not your fiancé."

He sighed, "Well sorry to say, you are now and there's nothing that can be done about it."

Claire tsk-ed at him and turned around with her arms folded. "My mother is a monster; I don't even know your name. I don't know you at all for that matter."

"It's Yaag." He answered the question she hadn't quite asked, but had certainly been thinking it.

He inclined her head just enough to see him in the corner of her eye, "Fine, Yaag, leave me alone now or I'll beat you up. I'm in no mood to talk with anyone at the moment."

He scoffed at her sentence, "Really now?" He walked to her front. "You really think you have such an ability to do so? That's pretty gutsy to be honest." He smirked again, she scowled.

"You sir are no gentlemen."

"And you certainly are no lady either."

Her frown thinned into a line, that way he could so easily smile, annoyed her greatly. And without thinking what punishments it'd carry, she slapped him right in the face.

His deluded thoughts on her left him completely unready and if his stance had been any worse he would have fallen flat on him bottom. He stopped himself, but just barely; and when he stood back up straight, his expression was fiery. He grabbed her by the collar and threw her onto the bed, she landed hard and it hurt despite the soft blankets and mattress beneath her. In a second he was upon her, keeping her there by putting his legs on hers and holding her arms down, his grip was so tight his finger nails dug into her soft skin and drew blood. She winced in pain but he didn't even take notice.

"Listen here you dumb whore, you will be my wife whether you want to or not! You will have no say in anything; you will do whatever I say exactly as I say it!" He growled.

She glowered at him and spat in his face, "I'll do no such thing!"

He took his hand off her bleeding arm and slapped her far harder than she'd hit him. She coughed up spit and ending up in a coughing fit, her cheek already hurt from when her mother hit her, now it was flaming.

"You." He hit her again,

"Will." And again,

"Do." And again,

"Whatever." And again,

"I." And again,

"Say." And one last time, making sure it hit harder than her the rest. This time when she coughed it was blood that came out, and it trickled down her chin. Tears of pain that she had been forcing back edged her eyes.

The creaking of the door made both of their eyes turn to there at once. Butterfly's petrified face watched the scene on the bed. Straightaway Yaag climbed off her, and fixed up his suit and acted like nothing had happened.

When he walked past Butterfly, she bowed to him and stuttered in a trembling voice, "I didn't see anything!"

He gazed down on her tiny teenage self for just a moment and said lazily, "Because it didn't."

Instantly Butterfly ran to the bed when she knew he was gone. She made sure she'd shut the door beforehand, so no one would see Claire as she was. She climbed up on the bed besides her, where she was nursing one of her arms. The bones in her legs were in hell but at least they weren't bleeding.

"Oh dear Goddess, Young miss are you alright?" Her squeaky voice whispered to her in a tone filled with more alarm than Claire had ever heard from anyone ever before.

She shook her head as Butterfly wiped away the line of blood on her chin; her dark eyes overflowing with concern. Sure even she went off at Claire at times, but she wasn't a heartless pig.

Without warning, Claire wrapped her arms around Butterfly and pulled her into a hug, finally letting her tears fall. She cried for the pain, for all the frustration and sadness her mother caused her, for never having anyone there, for everything. Her eyes were becoming red and puffy, her head pounded and her throat was dreadfully sore; but still the tears continued. She always held it in, and more than ever before, was she letting it out, all the pain that had accumulated throughout the years. She hadn't realised how bad she felt, until just now, being comforted in the arms of a girl who probably had it even worse.

She fell asleep like that, too exhausted to keep her eyes open, Butterfly stayed with her, holding her, being the dear friend she'd always needed but never had. For now she'd be a replacement for the one girl who could've helped Claire, she'd never be enough, but at least she was there to care.

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><p>The two slowly awakened in the middle of the night, roused by the sound of Chocobo squawks, gunfire and screaming. At first they were too drowsy for their minds to comprehend the situation. The room should've been cast into darkness at this time of night, but instead through the open window on the other end, the room was lit up bloody red. It was when the distinctive smell of smoke drafted in, did they realise just what was happening. Claire sped from the bed to the wall, her nails dug into the wooden sill, chipping the white paint. At her heels was Butterfly, a startled gasp followed. The small teen had her hands in front of her agape mouth, eyes open wide; positively petrified.<p>

Outside they could see rouge soldiers riding on freaked out Chocobo's clearly out of control. But they didn't care for their safety, it was easy to see they had enough skill to stay on the birds; but of course none of that was the problem here. Two held up wooden stakes with oiled ends, which they proceeded to set alight and throw at the first floor of the mansion, laughing like madmen. Another three who had regained control of their rides took off in the direction of the slave's quarters; behind her Butterfly stiffened and clung to her, fearing for the others down there.

Claire bit her lip and clenched her fists, which only made her scratch off more of the paint and cause pain for her hands. It was happening, what she'd always feared. The house was under attack by rogue Cocoonian soldiers, she believed it karma for her mother's words and actions, but her mind couldn't care less for her right this second. She feared for herself, and for her father's slaves knowing that if any were to try to stay the soldiers would kill them on the spot. She could fill wet drops on her shoulder, signifying Butterfly was already in tears. She had sympathy for her, unlike her Butterfly still had relatives whose lives were in danger, one's she cared for deeply.

"Oh young miss, my papa and sis are down there, what if something happens to them? They wouldn't dare leave unless they know where I am! They'll die!" She blubbered as she cried on the other's shoulder. Claire bit her lip harder and held her close to try to comfort the distraught teenager.

"Look, we'll get out of here and we will find them so they know you're alright. We can't stay in here anyway, I'm pretty sure they already set fire to the lower level, we need to get out now before the flames block our path." She forced herself to sound confident; in truth she'd never been more scared for her well-being. Death had a high chance of occurring tonight. But damn if she was going to let it.

She took hold of Butterfly's shaking hand and led her to the door. She let her lead her without a word. The girl must've known that Claire had no idea what she was doing, no more than she herself, and she was in tears, her mind had lost the ability to work straight. But Claire was a strange woman, she'd act strong even when she didn't need to, and for sure, now was the perfect time for courage. Still, even Butterfly could tell she was faking that strength; she was a pampered rich girl, whether she liked it or not, the amount of abilities she had were in lacking.

Claire opened the door a crack; there were no flames in sight, no smoke either. But she could smell wisps of it coming from down the stairs. They would have to leave now, or it'd be too late. She took a look back to Butterfly, whose round eyes were edged with tears and reddening, her cheeks stained. When she turned her head around, despite it the young girl had attempted a go at a strong face. Strength was in her, probably more than what Claire had, but her anxieties blotted it out in its entirety.

"Young miss, you don't have to be brave for me, I can be brave for myself, I know I can so let me try-"

"I'm not being brave for you Butterfly," Claire cut her off. "I'm doing it for myself."

For a second she was frozen, as she hadn't been expecting her to say that, at least not so openly. Claire was a woman who refused to be weak, saying what she had made it feel to Butterfly like that 'bravery' truly was a façade to make herself feel better, so she could feel different to the other women who she knew. Claire must've known that herself, and yet she'd chosen to say it anyway.

The older opened the door gradually so it wouldn't creak. When they were out and in the hallway, Claire made them keep close to the ground so no one would see them in case any had entered the building. They reached the staircase after what had felt like an eternity of increasing agony. The smoke had increased dramatically, and by now was clearly visible. The flames were yet to reach the steps, but had already consumed half the room before them, for now it was too distracted with the many expensive objects along the walls to care for upstairs. Before it got to them, they'd have to reach the hallway that led to the courtyards. And to do that they had to get down the stairs without being spotted, and had to dodge an area covered in flames dangerously close to their destination. They wouldn't have much time; soon their way would be blocked.

"We have to hurry." Claire whispered to the shaking girl at her side, the urgency in her voice as clear as the sun on a sunny day. Butterfly nodded and let her take her hand. If anyone else was in the house, they couldn't see them, and hopefully they weren't visible either, it was hard to know. They would be above the intruders, making them in plain sight. Claire led Butterfly down; the small girl was absolutely petrified and had wrapped her arms around Claire's shoulders and had dug her head into the crook of her neck. Without being able to see her steps were awkward so Claire had to make sure she concentrated completely on where her feet landed. The smoke was obscuring the area now. She was trying to hold her breath, but each time she did she'd hold on for too long and her body would force her to take in a big gulp of air; she decided to keep her breaths small, and steady. Claire was getting woozy; she hoped she was near the bottom, already she was almost at her limit. On the last step Butterfly slipped and fell, bringing her down with her. The girl screamed in fright as she landed harshly on the wooden planks, right on her face. Claire was lucky to have thrown her arms in front of her so her head didn't take the impact like it had with Butterfly. When she hit the ground she instantly got back up again, in a crouch and checked their surroundings. Butterfly had a loud voice at the worst of times; this was an example of that, her scream had been deafening. When she was sure no one had heard, she turned to butterfly to see how she was doing.

"Are you hurt?" She asked, before taking in deep breaths, she had winded herself at a horrid time. Her mind was swirling as she inhaled too much smoke; she needed to stay conscious, it wasn't just her she had to worry about.

The girl picked herself up on unsteady arms, a line of blood dripped from her nose; she appeared more unsteady than before, but the damage didn't seem too bad.

"Yes, but my face hurts plenty." She replied before going into a coughing fit.

With a frown Claire pulled her close, they had to get out now. Butterfly was in a worse condition than her, she must have inhaled a whole bunch of smoke after the fall; her body had must've made her do it without her control.

"Hurry, if we don't get out now I don't think we'll make it." She stated in a level voice. She was scared out of her mind, but refused to let it show. Just because the girl on her lap said she was going to be strong didn't mean she actually would. She wanted to, but the negativity locked up inside her kept it down and made her a cowering mess.

"Right." Butterfly mumbled; talking was too difficult; Claire decided that if she could she would avoid making her have to use her voice again. The fragile girl was horribly tired atop of everything, so was she, but it was easy to see the other had it worse.

Butterfly got off her lap, and Claire steered them to the hallway she had intended to reach from the beginning. They were incredibly lucky for its close proximity to the stairs, but incredibly unlucky for how close in the time they had wasted that the fire had gotten. The black smoke was blinding, and the heat unbearable. They crawled along the floor as they passed by the entrance; the flames lapped the floor and wall besides them like waves on sand, growing ever closer. The ground was hot, making it painful for their hands and knees, even when there was a material barrier between their skin and the wood. Sweat dropped into Claire's eyes from her glistening forehead, blinding her further; one of Butterfly's hands grabbed the end of her dress, making her feel the same was happening for her. She felt like her skin was melting, and her insides felt like they were what was on fire from too much inhalation of smoke.

As they managed to leave the fire in the main room behind them, the heat dissipated. Sadly the smoke was reluctant to leave, and they were stuck with the suffocating cloud above their heads the entirety of the time they crawled the length of the hallway. Claire wiped away the sweat on her eyelashes, finding her sight un-blur itself greatly. She would have allowed herself a sigh of relief but she feared taking in more smoke. When they reached the door at the end, relief filled the both of them. Claire used the door to aid her in standing; her legs were trembling under her as she took hold of the doorknob. She came close to falling as she twisted it and all her weight went against the door as it swung open into the courtyard. She fell onto the stone bricks hard, it hurt something bad but as cold night wind surrounded her overheated body she felt joy in a corner of her heart. Butterfly scuttled over to her and laid by her side, she kicked the door shut with her foot and ridded them of the smoke finally. Ash covered their clothes and skin in parts, their hair was sweat mattered and their skin swathed.

Both took in greedy gulps of night air, filling their lungs with well needed oxygen. The pounding and swirling in Claire's head evaporated and got replaced with startling clarity, it was wonderfully refreshing. Butterfly even allowed herself a short, but happy laugh. She was extremely relieved.

Still, it was far from over, the fire would reach here soon enough, though they had a large amount of time greater than what they'd had when they'd started out, it didn't mean they were out of the woods yet. Claire picked herself up off the stone ground; she walked in a crouch, edging gradually to the water fountain in the middle. Butterfly watched her curiously, until she signalled with her finger that she should follow. The teenager copied her movements and was soon again by her side squatting at the fountain's side, hidden behind the dancing water. It was known now, that the house was empty, of the intruders at least, the location of Claire's mother was a mystery. Though neither worried for her, this was her karma.

They had no fear of being spotted from the windows dotted along the courtyard wall, but the end was wide open. Before them was the bridge leading to the fields, and there was near to no cover for them. For butterfly she had a slight chance of survival if she got caught, but only if she accepted the offer of freedom and left Claire behind to die at the hands of the rogue soldiers. Being the daughter of the plantation owner, she was deemed guilty; she had no chance whatsoever. That was why they had to time this just right. If only they had more experience for such a situation, but that was impossible for a high-class woman and a clumsy slave girl.

The yelling and laughter of the soldiers could be heard from here, but clearly it was a way off, if they acted now, they might have a chance. Claire took to the outside of the yard, Butterfly unsure of herself kept at her heels like she had when they had been enveloped in the black smoke. They stopped at the foot of the bridge, knowing that when past it they would have to make a run for the cover of the trees without being spotted. They just hoped to the dear goddess they'd make it. They didn't want to die. Not tonight.

Claire took note of the length of the grass, and decided she would use it to their advantage, her mother had insisted it was getting far too long of late and had been at almost all the slaves that it desperately needed to get cut, luckily because she had overloaded them with tasks it hadn't been cut, and now they could use it to hide.

"You don't mind crawling through that do you?" She asked, pointing to the field in front of her.

Butterfly shook her head with a bemused expression, "No not at all young miss, it's you I'd have thought would be troubled by it."

Claire mentally sighed, "Its fine, especially since it's something that will increase our chances of making it through the night."

Butterfly nodded and they began making their way across the wooden planks of the bridge. Claire was constantly turning her head left and right, fearing one of the soldiers was about to come around the corner and would spot them. Fortunately, no one appeared and they reached the field with no trouble at all. Immediately they both went into a crawl, letting the knee-length grass keep them hidden. The grass was wet from rain that had poured earlier in the night, and without the sun to dry it the dirt remained as mud. The brown ooze dirtied their dresses, and stuck to their skin already sticky from sweat. The crawl was painfully long, and fear made the seconds turn to minutes, and the minutes to hours. By the time the trees were anywhere near them, Claire's shoulders arched horribly, and her breathing was troubled because her chest felt like something was pushing down on because it faced the ground. She wouldn't dare stop until both she and Butterfly were safe.

It was soon when they were among the trees, after the crawl across the field, but they didn't stand up, not yet, that was foolish. Claire rejected the thought of even a crouch, for she found that just as foolish. They were only just under cover, they needed to get deeper in and further away from the house to be safe. The soldiers were too distracted with the destruction of the plantation to care for the surrounding woodlands; here they should be safe.

She hadn't realised she'd done so until she was right in the middle of it, but subconsciously she'd led them to her secret place. She eyed the area with surprise, and stopped her movements. Butterfly's curiosity was instantly present, as from her position she had a good look of Claire's peculiar expression.

"Young miss, do you know this place?"

For a minute Claire made no action to show she'd noticed someone had spoken. But when that minute passed, she tilted her head to see Butterfly's curious face eyeing her.

"Yes, I use to come here with Serah." She mumbled, finding her voice had almost been lost in the prolonged silence.

"I see."

Claire turned her head away and looked around her; she'd first believed it had only been raining when the grass turned out to be a muddy mess, now it seemed it had been more than that. It'd been a thunder-storm, and this had been hit. The ancient stone bench had broken straight down the middle, and both sides lay half on the ground, the legs keeping them up. Bits and pieces or stone lay visible everywhere and a tree nearby had snapped in two.

It was then, when they heard the voices of men, she stiffened recognising them as the rogue soldiers.

"Young miss!?" Butterfly's terrified voice yelled at her, begging to hear if she knew a way to escape.

Claire bit her lip; they couldn't fail, not now, not after they'd gotten so far; she eyed the tree that had fallen down, how thick the layers of dying leaves were.

"Follow me." She commanded in a strong voice, not faked one bit. She in a crouch headed hastily to the tree, and in seconds Butterfly was with her too.

They hid in the middle of the branches, hoping to the dear goddess that they were invisible to any onlookers. The soldiers passed close by, hooting and cackling. Claire covered Butterfly's mouth so she couldn't make a sound, and didn't breathe once herself until she couldn't hear them any longer. They'd stay here until morning if they had to.

They were there for a long while, the exact time unknown, fear made the time seem greatly exaggerated. Without it, it would have been horrible, with it, it was all the more excruciating. Branches jutted off and stuck into Claire's back, making her position more painful that it already was, for having to crouch for a lengthy time left most of her in serious aching pain. Butterfly had fallen asleep in her arms, too tired to keep her eyes open any longer, she longed for sleep as well, the more she continued to stay awake, the more her eyes burned. But someone had to stay awake, especially now when danger was everywhere beyond the partial protection of leaves.

The soldiers could still be heard, though far more quiet meaning they were no longer mere metres away, they'd returned to their attack on the house. She could smell the burning even from here, she wouldn't dare move until her ears were greeted with silence and the fire subsided.

It was going to take hours.

* * *

><p>It was a few hours past midnight when Butterfly awoke again, immediately her eyes went to the face of the woman's whose arms she was in. Her eyes were half-shut and her face dis-concentrated; being half asleep she hadn't noticed the other rousing.<p>

"Young miss?" She asked in a low timid voice, terrified to raise it any louder.

Claire blinked in surprise, noticing for the first time the set of curious dark eyes watching her. She rubbed her eyes, her head was pounding, her body ached, everything was swirling.

"Yes?" She mumbled in a weak voice.

Butterfly frowned, she was in a serious need for rest, she'd never had to stay awake for as long as this. The night was a traumatic one.

"Do you need to sleep? I can stay awake and keep watch, though I think they've left now." Butterfly offered; her voice unsteady. She didn't want to be the one to keep watch, she preferred it as someone else because than that person could make them feel safe by being her protection.

Despite knowing how badly she needed to, Claire shook her head and declined the offer. "No thanks, I'll survive."

Butterfly nodded, though she herself wanted to beg for the other to have a rest knowing it was the healthy thing to do, she felt it rude.

Claire turned her head and looked straight ahead, focussing on the sounds outside. She heard animal sounds and the wind. Not a single person in the proximity. She could no longer smell the smoke, meaning the fire had settled down. Though there could still be danger out in the open, Claire took her chances and exited their hiding place. She was right, they were truly alone; the soldiers were gone. Past the rows of trees she could just spot what remained of the house. The bottom floor was nothing but a gigantic pile of ash with wood stacked on top, cracking and breaking apart. She took a daring action by walking back the path they'd come. They didn't know for sure if the soldiers had left, but she was damn sure they had. From fear Butterfly stayed under the cover of the snapped tree. When Claire was out in the open she found the out how greedy the fire had really been. Her sights had proved true, if the flames had continued in a couple of hours the whole mansion would be nothing but ash, but the fire had turned to embers. The second floor was recognisable only just; every part of it was burnt and broken up in pieces atop the giant pile of rubble.

It felt like a dream, this sight had been an impossible thought before tonight. This had once been a grand mansion, now it was nothing but rubbish. Nothing of it could be saved, it was all useless now.

"Butterfly," She called out, in the night-time silence she knew the girl would hear regardless the distance. "It's safe."

In a minute or so the teenager came running out of the woods, her eyes were round as dinner plates when she reached Claire's side. Her mouth was wide open; the sight was even more a shock to her. She'd never feared an attack like Claire had. But to both seeing how badly it had become was beyond belief. They'd heard stories time and time again of soldiers burning down houses, but never did it reach this level.

"It's all gone, I can't believe it." She exclaimed in her high-pitched voice, showing the astonishment she had on her face in its entirety. She looked to Claire, expecting the same, but she was blank.

She believed it was because this was her own house, burnt to a crisp. It would hurt to see the place you grew up in this state; but that was just what she thought, it wasn't the truth. Claire didn't know what to think, a part of her was happy and the other overcome with sadness. She had never even called this her home, but seeing it like this hurt in its own weird way. It held memories she'd never get back. She was happy despite this, because before it happened the ones she loved had already left, and though being without them made her depressed, she felt so relieved they didn't have to be here for this. This was also her mother's karma, she was getting what she'd deserved, watch the house she so adored burn to the ground, like Claire had secretly wished it would every night.

But getting her wish to come true wasn't as she'd imagined. It hurt her, it made her happy, and it made her angry. She confused herself, what to care more for. Her mind wouldn't let her concentrate on one thing, and in the end she just got frustrated at herself. Claire kicked the dirt and let out an angered scream. A startled Butterfly took a step back for distance.

"Young miss?" She questioned unsteadily, "You're not alright are you?"

Claire turned her head back, and looked at her. She had frightened her, not like it was the first time, but after going through so much so quickly she felt a hell of a lot sorrier for doing so. If only her mind would work straight, feeling like she was about to fall asleep where she stood didn't help anything.

"I haven't the slightest idea." She muttered, and strode past her.

Butterfly twisted around and gazed curiously at her,

"Young miss?"

"I'm seeing if there are other survivors. There has to be, sure they were mad enough to destroy the house completely but I'm hoping they had enough sanity not to go on a massacre as well."

"Right, I'll come to." She said; Claire was well aware she just didn't want to be left alone. No one would after a traumatic event like this.

They treaded along the muddy grass path, going around the side of the house. The wind whistled and wild animals were prowling along the perimeter of the woods, eyeing them for any sudden weakness. Butterfly clung to Claire, she'd acted as her protector all night even when she hadn't known what on earth she was doing; she felt safe around her now.

They reached the slave's quarters, a small lot of tiny houses on the edge of one of the fields. The houses were smashed, but fire had not ravaged them like it had the mansion. A small group of slaves were huddling around a fire they'd made. Children slept around the edges, along with a handful of chocobos. The group was not even a half of the amount Claire knew her father had owned. Some would have jumped on the chance of freedom, which explained why the number of chocobos still around was so little. She wasn't an idiot, she knew the ones that had left and the ones in the circle were not all of them. The smell of rotting circled the area; it was the smell of death. When she realised it, she covered her mouth with her hand, almost vomiting up all what'd she'd eaten today.

In the field beyond all the men were burying the one's who'd been killed, a disquieting amount. Butterfly gasped and choked on a sob. Without saying anything to her she ran to the circle, who Claire noticed was made up of only woman, for the men were in the neighbouring field. The area was silent enough to hear what the girl was demanding of the group, she was begging for them to tell her where her big sister was. She didn't hear what an elderly woman told her, but understood what it had to have been when she pointed past the circle and to the field of corpses. In a second Butterfly was on the ground in tears, a group of girls her age which Claire assumed she must've been friends with attempted to comfort her, but she batted their hands away. She frowned sadly as she watched it play out.

She didn't go near the others; instead she sat down on the wet ground, with her arms wrapped around her legs. She didn't hate them, and they respected her for it, but they hated her. She'd never felt more alone than at this moment.

After a while, when it seemed they'd quieted Butterfly to some degree, she noticed that she alerted them she was there by pointing in her direction. Most sent looks her way, before continuing comforting their loved ones, they must have lost many tonight. Only one, did anything more. One of the older slaves got up and walked all the way over to her, but she hadn't taken notice until she was in front of her, and made a sound for when she didn't notice even then. She recognised her as Nancy, one of the few that wouldn't bite her head off the moment she said something out of the ordinary, still, even she had yelled at her.

"Good to see you're alright. I know they won't say it because of your constant bad behaviour but I know they're glad." She informed her, in a deep voice.

Claire nodded; she had known that to a degree anyway. Better her than her mother.

Nancy sat beside her, with a little trouble, her old bones giving her a hard time. "Poor Butterfly, her sister was a goner, she got shot right in the chest; we couldn't have done anything."

Claire winced; Nancy had said it too easily. But she had to take into consideration that bad things were something this woman had lived with her whole life, she learnt to accept them whether she wanted to or not.

"You didn't see your mother anywhere did you?" Nancy spoke up after a moment of silence. Claire shook her head.

"Two went in there earlier, to see if there was anyone left in there. We found two children who had been playing hide and seek. A sad loss, they were twins; their mother doesn't have anyone else now. Her husband got shot as well." She paused, having a moment of silence as respect for the woman's horrible loss. "They didn't find anyone else, and no one think's Madam Farron managed to get out, most are hoping she was burnt to a crisp." She admitted, then quickly added, "Sorry if that's hurtful but-"

"It's fine." Claire cut her off. "I was hoping the same. She deserves it."

Nancy gawked at her in disbelief, than sighed dejectedly. "Wonder if I should even be surprised." She muttered to herself before raising her voice and speaking to Claire, "She treated you so badly didn't she? I overheard that conversation she had with that man the other day. I can't understand how anyone could say yes to an offer like that, coming from a complete stranger."

She waited for the other to make a response; Claire said nothing instead, turning herself into a smaller ball. Nancy eyed her than, the mud, ash, drops of blood and rips on her dress; it could all have been caused when she escaped the house and hid, but the mark on her cheek couldn't have. It was a humongous bruise that covered her whole left cheek. It was the type you could only get after being hit.

"Did he hit you?" She asked concern in her voice that reminded Claire of a caring mother, the caring mother she only wished she could have had.

She nodded, feeling sick in the pit of her stomach. It was a slave that was doing what her mother should've, like it always had been at the different stages of her life. That woman had never been there for her, and barely even for the younger daughter she'd absolutely adored. She lost it again, and cried for the second time that night. She was glad her mother was gone, burnt to nothing in the house she loved. Died in the fashion she had always claimed would never happen to her. Nancy rested a hand on her shoulder for comfort. It was something her mother had never thought of doing, and it just made it worse; but she didn't take her hand away. Nancy stayed with her until she calmed down. She was thankful for her presence, it made up for all the times the woman had gone off at her. Her mother had never once tried to make up for it.

"It'll be alright okay young miss." Nancy painted on a smile, "It'll be alright."

Claire lifted up her head and wiped away the tears, she forcibly made herself smile; she felt hurt inside. But she hated feeling so weak, and all crying did was highlight the weakness she wanted to rid herself of so badly.

"What's going on here?" A voice appeared suddenly from behind them, one she barely knew at all since she'd heard it only twice; but one she'd already learnt to despise. She and Nancy twisted around to see Yaag watching them a short distance away.

"So it looked like you've survived eh? That's nice." He smirked. He was happy about her survival for his own selfish reasons, and it earned him two death stares from the woman at his feet.

"Go away." Claire hissed, she only managed to make him widen his grin.

"There you go again thinking you have control over me, didn't you learn your lesson?" His eyes narrowed, Claire felt her left cheek; acting like his appearance had made the pain return.

"What lesson? I didn't do anything wrong." She spat.

He frowned. "Are you really going to make me have to teach you it again?"

"Just leave me alone, that's all I'm asking for you psycho!"

She'd gone over the line with the last word, not like she would could have gotten out fine if she hadn't chosen to say it, but the word 'psycho' lit his eyes alight with anger. Yaag pushed Nancy out-of-the-way, the old woman land painfully on her back and was unable to get up fast enough to help Claire before Yaag was upon her again. He picked the woman up by the collar of her dress and slapped her across her cheek, the same one he'd hit before.

"You'll listen to me if you know what's good for you!" He yelled, beginning to attract attention from the slaves, but the distance was too long to understand what was happening.

"Like a stranger would know what's good for me!" Claire laughed darkly, he hit her again.

"I'm your future husband; I out of anyone would know what's good for you!" He screamed, this time the onlookers got a clear view of what he was doing since this time when he'd hit the strength he'd used was enough to rip her from his grip. She fell to the ground hard, and instantly all the air was knocked from her lungs. With one hand she kept together the torn fabric, the other clawed into the ground as she gasped for air, feeling like none was coming in.

He went for another but the moment before it hit a hand caught his fist and threw him backwards. Yaag got knocked off his feet by one of the men who had noticed what was going on from the start and had run over here to stop it before it could continue. Seeing a black man in front of him infuriated him more. He was extremely tall and made for an intimidating sight, but in his anger Yaag disregarded it, as well as the fact that it was already known this man was stronger than him.

Claire recognised the man as Butterfly's father, the protective type he was, and not one to take kindly to pointless violence.

"I'm sorry sir but I must ask you to leave young miss alone." He asked, truly it was a command, but he wouldn't admit to it and Yaag was too angry to take notice.

"I'll leave her alone when I want to, She nor you have any right to tell me otherwise." He stated as he got back up off the ground, straightening his suit and wiping of the grass, he grimaced at the amount of mud had gotten on him, nothing he could do about it for now.

A handful of earlier onlookers had slowly edged closer to the scene, joining the side of the man who'd blocked the last punch by crowding around Claire so he couldn't touch her. Regardless of whether they liked her, they knew what the white man was doing was unprovoked and plainly wrong.

He growled at that. "Go away you mongrels; this is between her and me!" Yaag yelled at them, a small number backed away fearfully, but didn't leave.

"I'm sorry sir but I won't let you hurt her." Butterfly's father said again.

"I won't if you go away now and leave us alone."

"From what I saw before I'm not sure how much of that I can trust, I don't mean to be rude." His decision firmly made.

"Imbeciles." Yaag muttered under his breath, Nancy heard him clearly as she was on the ground next to where he stood, messaging her back. She scowled at the comment.

Claire rubbed her cheek; it stung so bad she had trouble keeping her eye open. This man was crazy; she needed to get out of here before he forced his way through the gathering crowd.

"May I ask you what she did to upset you Sir?" He asked respectfully but his face showed nothing but sheer hatred.

Yaag directed the same stare back to him, "Speaking like she was higher than me. Any woman who can think that is crazy." He spat, he couldn't see the venomous glare he was getting from the woman in question.

"Young miss is a strange girl, I beg you to forgive her oddities she doesn't think like others do."

Yaag rolled his eyes and ignored everything he was told. "Tsk, strange doesn't cut it, she's rude, how on earth she hasn't been punished for this before is beyond me."

Next to her someone whispered, "You're the rude one." Claire had the urge to chuckle at that, but this was not the time.

"She has been punished we assure you, punishment does not have to physical. Violence is not an act to be used on woman." Butterfly's father told him, having trouble keeping his anger back.

Yaag sniggered, "I'll do whatever I want with her she's my fiancée!" The sentence caused an army of looks to be sent in Claire's direction, filled with bewilderment. It lit the flames of anger in her eyes. She jumped off the ground and screamed at him as high as how voice would allow,

"I am not your fiancé, I didn't say yes to anything, just because my monster of a mother would allow it doesn't mean I will!" With one last look, sending daggers to him with her eyes, she pivoted on the ball of her feet and stormed off. Someone had grabbed her sleeve but their hand slipped off. Someone yelled for her to stop, but she couldn't tell who they were, no one chased after her.

She wasn't sure where she intended to go, all she knew she had to get away from Yaag, hopefully the others would obstruct him from getting to her, she could only hope.

But Yaag didn't take a step in her direction; he crossed his arms and stormed off in the opposite. Despite want he wanted from her, he didn't want to deal with her bad personality.

A mite shaken from the incident, the small group that had gathered as protection didn't know which way to look. Half of them had decided if he changed his mind and went after her, they'd return to acting as a blockade; but none wanted to go after her, they'd seen her and her mother's many arguments, an angry Claire was a scary Claire.

"Daddy!" Butterfly ran over to the group and jumped into her father's arms. He pulled the tiny teenager into his embrace lovingly.

"I was so scared daddy." She blubbered...but…but young miss helped me." She lifted her face, a shaky smile present. "She saved me daddy, I don't think I could've gotten out if it hadn't been for her."

He smiled sadly, holding her closer, "I'm thankful for that, I know she can be a good person when the time calls for it. It's a shame most people don't see that." A one or two in the group surrounding him suddenly looked guilty.

"I only wish your sister had been as lucky." He sighed dejectedly, Butterfly nodded, a tear falling down her cheek. Her father eyed the field he'd had to bury his eldest in, Butterfly eyed the spot Claire had disappeared from, she owed her her life; she only wished she knew how to repay the favour.

* * *

><p>Claire stumbled about the woods, she'd always seen them from a distance from a second story window, but she hadn't gone near them except to go to her secret place. But that was in what must have been the tamest area that circled the house, this was a tangle of falling branches, sharp rocks and bugs that came in the thousands.<p>

She battered away a low branch that was in her way, only to afterwards slip down a ledge she hadn't noticed was there. Her mind had been moving too slowly along for her to scream. She couldn't even remember the way back now, not like she had any intention of returning, she didn't want to see her so called fiancé's face. If she did she knew she'd be tempted to hit him in the face like she had in the afternoon, and she'd give into the temptations. But that did happen to be how she'd ended up having the massive bruise on her cheek.

Claire rubbed her foot which she'd injured in the fall, the ledge wasn't much of a ledge, just a slightly elevated piece of ground, but without knowing it'd been there she had still caused herself pain. Stubbornly she got back up after a minute, now limping to add to her troubles. It was in the early morning hours, the sun was yet to rise and the area was completely cast in darkness, the light of the moon blocked by the heavy canopy of leaves above her.

She felt with her hands where the closest trees were when the darkness became too much of a hindrance. On some occasions slices of light cut through the leaves and reached her, making her path visible, however the times they appeared were few and far between. She had to slow herself down whenever the light was entirely gone, in the case of coming across another invisible ledge, who's to say it'd only be her foot next time? Her pace was as slow as a snail most times, which was bad if unfortunately Yaag had gone after her, he'd be less concerned with his safety and would storm after her even in these conditions, she could tell already he was the type to go blind when angered. She'd be caught fast if this was so.

As she got deeper into the woods she could hear animals and bug scurrying away from her, she must have been making a lot of sound banging into everything like she was. She wasn't an owl, her eyes couldn't adjust to this level, and simply keeping your arms out in front barely even helped. The sleep she'd gotten in the afternoon hadn't been near enough, she had woken up tired, because she had been feeling too weary before from crying. So now, after hours of forcefully keeping herself awake, her mind was at its end, she had more than she could take. Her eyes burned, the times she blinked were common and each time she did she had to command her brain to open them before she accidently fell asleep where she stood. Her head was pounding, spinning; her legs were unsteady and soon she found herself constantly tripping and falling over things such as small as rocks and twigs. She'd torn her dress in multiply places, and had added more patches of dirt and blood. She could barely feel her injuries, there was a slight stinging sensation, but that was that. She knew she was in a worse condition than her mind was telling her, but it was too drained to properly comprehend anything at the moment. She was exhausted.

Her head drooped, too heavy for her sore body, and her eyes shut; her body had had enough and had given up the battle for consciousness. Her legs continued to move robotically as they had for hours, for she'd been lost in here a long time, a time her brain translated as millennia. She fell again, as she had countless time before, only this time was different. She didn't catch herself with her hands as she had the others, didn't protect herself. When she fell over the ledge her head was what hit the ground first, and it knocked her out cold.

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><p>When Claire awoke, her surroundings appeared a blinding white; quickly she shut her eyes before it hurt. Next time she opened them gradually, finding the area darken to its true colours as she let her eyes adjust. She was in a clearing in the woods, where the trees had parted enough not a single stick was on the ground. The sun had risen over the horizon, hanging low in the sky. She rubbed her head, realising how sore it felt, not to mention multiple areas on her arms and legs also pained her. She shifted her body so she more comfortable, her mind was still waking up, if she tried to stand up she'd undoubtedly fall back down. It was then she felt something heavy on her, propping herself up on her hands she saw there was a blanket covering her, and finally noticed as well she was now on flat ground. Before she could question a little boy ran into her sight, stopping by her side with an excited and surprised expression. He had dark skin and an afro that was starting to look bigger than his own head. His clothes were a mess and were almost entirely covered in mud, still despite it he had a bright smile placed on his features, laughing softly like the child he was. Claire also noted the tiny Chocobo chick he was attempting to contain in his hands, one that was constantly qwarking at him and trying to bat away his small hands with its tiny wings.<p>

"You sure you're not going to kill that thing doing that?" She asked before her mind caught up, she hadn't noticed she'd said it out loud until the kid made a reply.

"Oh, I didn't notice I was holding her so tightly." He mumbled and opened his palms. The chick did what appeared as a sigh of relief, at least a chocobo's version of it.

The chick tilted its tiny head at her, eyeing her curiously before flapping its wings she'd previously thought flightless and flying up to her and landing on her shoulders.

"Kweh." It said as it jumped about, finally settling on the top of her head. She would've gotten it off and given it back to the boy, but past experiences with baby Chocobo's had her convinced it bite if she tried.

"I see she's taken a liking to you." The voice of an older man asked with a chuckle from a short distance away, Claire twisted around to see who she had to say must've been the boy's father. He looked exactly like him, only taller and older.

"She? The Chocobo?"

"Who else? " He laughed, and jumped over a satchel, obviously his. He was almost to her when she noticed it wasn't just him and the young boy that was here, the man was holding a baby in his arms, and guessing from the faded pink blanket they were wrapped in she'd have to say it was a girl. She blushed in embarrassment from not noticing earlier.

The strangers didn't notice, they didn't say anything about it at least. The man took a seat next to her on the ground, and the chick happily jumped on his head, partially hiding itself in his afro, having only her head pop out so she could watch the conversation. Claire didn't look at him as he did it, but he was looking at her, with interest and concern.

"Last night I found you out cold, you're lucky you didn't get seriously injured from that, you must've have hit your head guessing from the position I found you in. What on earth happened for you to get in a place like this? There's still rouge soldiers hanging about you know." In his mind he was trying to think up all the possible situations that could have brought her here. Her dress was covered in mud and dried blood, he could tell it was hers because of all the rips in her dress. Her hair was just as much a mess as the rest of her, but there was one thing which had his main concern. The massive reddened bruise on her left cheek couldn't have been caused by the same reason any of her other injuries could've. She could have simply been walking about in the woods to have caused all that, the branches could've jutted out everywhere and with no visibility of course she'd hurt herself on them, but how had that bruise gotten there then? She would had to have been hit, not cut, to have gotten that type of injury.

Claire had ignored his question, at first she planned to answer, but something else appeared in her mind and bothered her a great deal more. _'There's still more rogue soldiers hanging out'_

"Why'd you say still?" She got out, after she failed to think of a reason.

The stranger let out one big sigh, and ran a hand through his afro shakily. "It doesn't have a good story to it I warn you."

"Well maybe I don't have a good story for why I'm here either." Claire cut in, he sent her a look.

"I didn't think anything else. Rich woman don't go wandering about in places like this for no reason." He looked back up to her, and waited for a response, when he didn't get one he sighed once again and explained his circumstance to her.

"They came two nights ago, a group of rogue soldiers, they didn't set fire to anything or nothing, but they destroyed the house, and our homes too so we wouldn't have had anything left to come back to. Luckily only a handful were killed, but sadly they were all young folk as well" He admitted grimly. His son wasn't paying any attention to the conversation, he and the Chocobo chick were a little way off; playing what seemed to be a game of tips.

When he lifted his head to view her expression he could see it was sympathetic, but as soon as he'd looked she attempted to hide it by blanking her face.

"They burned my house down, I have no idea if my mother survived or not. One of the slaves told me that two of the men had gone and searched what remained of it after the fire died down. They found two boys, but they couldn't find her. If she is alive she wasn't anywhere near where we all were."

"I'm sorry," He responded to her story, "It's always horrible to lose a loved one, my wife died a little while before it happened, wouldn't have even been a month but it feels a lot more than that. She passed after giving birth to this little one right here." He directed his words to the baby girl in his arms, sleeping peacefully. His expression desolate but with the strangest hints of happiness, no doubt because of the child he held.

"But I'm not sad she's gone." Claire admitted, "She hated me, she would yell at me for the littlest of things, me not wanting a husband happened to be a major problem for her. She was a monster; if she's dead I'm glad, it's what she deserves after all she'd done." She spat.

The man winced at her cruel tone. "Regardless, she'd still your mother isn't she? Surely you feel something?"

"I don't know what I feel. Whenever I try to think of her and all that comes to mind is the times we got into an argument, there's nothing good."

The stranger leaned backwards, exhaling. "'Constant arguments with your mother? Now that reminds me of a certain someone." He mumbled, with a chuckle. He said it to himself but Claire couldn't help asking,

"A certain someone?" She tilted her head so she could face him with his new position.

"Fang, she was my master's eldest, I doubt it was as bad but she had arguments with her mother now and then, only most of the time she put on a mask and lied to her so she could avoid them. Whenever she took it off they'd instantly get into a fight. She didn't want to get married either."

Claire nodded and sat back up straight. "Fang, I think I've heard that name before, the Oerba's daughter right? I heard she did get married"

The stranger nodded and lifted himself up to sit beside her.

"Yeah, but she had her reasons I assure you, half of them were to do with her parents, she married her friend so she could be rid of them. So I'm thinking if she ever cheats on him he wouldn't go throw her in a mental hospital like most do."

"God I'd cheat on mine even if I completely believed he'd throw me into an asylum if he found out." Claire muttered, not fully intending for her to be heard. But at the close proximity it was hard not to.

"Going off what you're saying you don' have a fiancé do you?" He asked; she went stiff.

"No." She shot back the second after the words had left his mouth.

He shook his head, decided it wasn't his place to question. For a while a silence rose between them, so Claire not bothering to think up something else to say, took a look around the area to see if anything whatsoever was familiar to her. Beyond the clearing the woods turned back into the dread she had to face the night before, and she was dead against having to make her way back through that again, her cuts stung like nails digging into to her skin again and again. She eyed the ends of the clearing, believing this man and his son had to have taken an easier path than she. The ends took on the form of miniature paths, surely they had been passing through along them.

Then a question popped into her head she stupidly realised she was yet to ask.

"What's your name by the way?"

"Hmm, it's Sazh, my son's is Dajh, Chocobo don't got one yet, and this little one," He lifted up the baby in his arms with a smile, "Is Vanille."

Claire nodded, "Vanille? I feel like I've heard that before." She mumbled, and bit her lip trying to remember where on earth she'd heard it or who had said it.

"She was my master's younger daughter; we were close so when I had to think what to call the little darling, she was all I could think of."

Claire blinked like a light bulb had turned on in her head. She remembered where she'd heard it, a couple of years back Serah had gone on and one about a girl with that name; _she was the Oerba's daughter wasn't she?_

"That girl died didn't she? I remember getting told something about it by my sister. Apparently she'd been real sick and-"

"She's alive." Sazh stopped her before she went on. Claire gave him a look of surprise, not expecting the interruption, but let him go on, her curiosity sparked by the sentence. "Her father asked her one day, who her best friend was, expecting to hear the name of one of the girl's she'd been talking to at a party her mother had held the night before." He smiled dismally, "But instead she said my name, and her father, who'd adored her since the day she'd been born, all of a sudden accused her of insanity and treated her as rubbish. He sent her to an asylum, and that's the last we heard of her."

By the time he'd finished, Claire's eyes were as round as bulbs.

"What is wrong with him? If he would send someone into an asylum because of their friend, then he's the one that really belongs in there!" Her voice rose to a yell.

Sazh shook his head and sighed, "Well it happened, there's nothing we can do about that, though her sister's never going to give up trying. At least the man got what he deserved, the soldiers bashed his head in; I saw it with my own eyes." He tacked on a smile hoping it'd help him in his attempt of chancing the topic; he was uncomfortable talking to a stranger about those events, despite that he was the one that steered the conversation to them.

"I didn't catch your name, what was it?"

Claire sent him a strange look, she understood why he was doing it to a degree, but it seemed stupid to start talking about it like he had and then done a 360 and decide he didn't want to.

"Lightning."

Of course her reply owned her a far stranger look than the one she'd sent him seconds before. He stifled a chuckle, and hid his face behind his hand, shaking his head at the bizarre name. It wasn't the biggest reaction she'd gotten after trying to convince someone that was her name, but it certainly wasn't the smallest.

"No it's not. I'm aware that the Farron's daughter's both have pink hair and seeing as that is definitely the strangest hair colour I've ever seen on somebody, I doubt you could be anyone else. And as I'm also aware, neither of those two were crazy enough to call their daughter by the name 'Lightning', what is it really?"

Claire frowned at being caught out so easily, she had hoped it had been the oddity of it, but even if it was normal she would have failed getting him to believe it.

"Claire." She gave him the real answer.

Sazh gave her a smile, "Now that wasn't so hard was it? Got a nice name."

"I hate it, call me Light." She cut in and ordered him before he continued the sentence. He sighed yet again,

"Well not as weird as Lightning but not as normal as Claire. Don't see why you hate it so much, it's pretty."

"Vanille's a weird name, so is Sazh for that matter." She cut in again.

Sazh jumped up and pulled a face acting like she'd hit the baby girl in his arms, "How dare you!" He joked, "I have a perfectly good name, and so is Vanille, it means Vanilla." By this time Dajh and Chocobo had stopped playing their game to watch the adult's conversation, which was quickly deemed stupid even by children.

"If you hadn't said the last part it would be normal, now it's just as weird as Lightning."

"You're trying to convince me to call you Lightning aren't you?" He inquired in a faked tone of disbelief.

"I might, I'd prefer you did." Also by this time along with their new onlookers, Claire began to think she was so tired from staying up all night she had gone loopy, she didn't usually act this way.

"Fine, Lightning then." Sazh gave up the battle and conceded to the idea of calling her by the bizarre name. "Can I hear how you got out here or are you going to keep acting like a five-year old?"

"If I'm acting like a five-year old you're acting like a baby"

"Just answer my question…." He heaved a sigh, and sat back down beside her. He was sure she was only acting this way from lack of sleep, knocking yourself out cold does not count as a proper rest. From what he had heard of the Farron's eldest, she was a strange girl, but not this type of strange. She wasn't immature; it was that she didn't think like other woman, apparently her mind worked closer to that of a man's.

"I got into an argument with the only white person still there, he's an acquaintance of my father and he keeps going off his head at me sprouting nonsense. So I stormed off without any plan of what on Pulse I was doing, and ended up getting lost in the woods in the dark. At one point I must have fallen down and that's that."

She had to wait a second for him to reply, he had his head in his hand again, the other having to tighten his grip on his daughter.

"So I'm guessing all you have ever done with other white people is get into arguments hah?" Sazh questioned.

"All excluding my father, he only told me to be nicer around people. And with my sister they were only tiny one's which involved her telling me not to get into arguments." She informed him.

"I can tell why you'd have the type of mother to get angry at you so much if it was like that. What on earth are you planning to do now? If you're the type to burn your bridges I don't see an easy path, at least I know where I'm heading."

Claire paused to think, what on earth was she planning to do? All she had now was a group of people who disliked her, though Butterfly might feel indebted to her now, it didn't help change much. The girl was greatly outnumbered.

"I don't know, I don't have a place I can go, I dreamt about this happening because it would be the perfect karma for my mother, but I never thought it would actually happen. I've never had to think ahead, there was never a need to."

Sazh smiled sadly, and patted her on the head; she flinched and glared at him, so he quickly took his hand away. "Jeez, it's almost strange to see someone of your class to be in a worse situation than someone of mine. I'd allow you to come with me but I have a feeling if a white man was to see a black man with a young white girl they'd accuse me of a some crazy crap."

Claire had a saddened look in her eye, but crawled into a ball so her expression would be less visible. "Racist pigs, they'd destroy everything near and dear to someone because people are being so heartless, but then they'd be heartless themselves. The hypocrites." She muttered angrily under her breath. Sazh overheard her and nodded his head in agreement.

"Had to deal with it my whole life, Master Oerba had a number of Cocoonian business partners, and sometimes they would come down, they'd say it to my face that it was horrid that the master had slaves, but the moment they thought you were out of earshot they'd be talking about you as if you were no better than a common beast."

Claire didn't voice a response to that, but he could see the disgust written on her face. "Where are you heading?" She asked simply, it wasn't the question he expected from her but not one of out of the blue.

"I was going to go up to Cocoon; Bodhum was my top choice, considering I actually know someone there. I'd be able to give my children a proper home and we'd be treated fairly.

A rustling in the bushes alerted them of a presence nearby, Sazh's eyes darted to the spot in fear of his son's safety in case of it being a fiend. When he saw a man there, he was originally relieved, but soon found out that relief was not the right emotion for this situation. The way the woman besides him stiffened made him realise that.

"There you are, I've searched for you all night, what made you think you could leave like that?" A harsh voice asked her angrily, Yaag's expression was fuming.

Claire's face mirrored his, "Who said I couldn't? Didn't hear you say anything, what's your problem?

Yaag scowled angrily, and it only deepened when he noticed the black man sitting next to her.

He directed the next question to him, "What are you doing with my fiancé?"

Sazh expression turned to one of purer perplexity, "Fiancé?"

In the next second, Claire shot up and stormed all the way over to Yaag, furiously. She swung her hand and slapped him. "I am not your fiancé! How many times do I have to say that!? I didn't say yes to anything, an engagement is not something you can decide on your own!" She slapped him again.

The man snickered at her enraged face, and felt his cheek like the hit had done no damage at all, like a five-year old might have done it. She could tell he was faking it, their proximity made it too easy to see the red mark forming. Not like he was going to admit to it.

"That all you got? somehow I expected more from you." He smiled arrogantly, and returned the hits only this time he sent her off her feet; he made sure he hit the same cheek as before, knowing the pain would be worse that way.

Claire fell to the ground, landing hard; she let out a pained groan. Yaag didn't even wait a minute before going in for another, he aimed a kick at her stomach intending to wind her, but the attack got blocked when Sazh intervened and the kick hit his shoulder instead. Dajh who'd been watching with no idea of what was going on cried and tried to run to his father, but Sazh sent him a look reading 'stay away and fearfully the boy did as he was told.

The man winced, but knew the pain he felt wasn't as bad as what could've been done to Claire.

"You're too quick to using your fists aren't you?" He questioned spitefully.

Yaag glared daggers at him, "I assure you it's her fault entirely.

Sazh laughed bitterly, "It doesn't look that way from here."

"Tsk, get your eyes checked you dirty mongrel." Yaag hissed and aimed a kick at the man's face, he wasn't giving any time to dodge and it was a direct hit. Sazh fell backwards, blood coming out from his nose, the impact awoke the sleeping baby in his arms and right away she started crying. The man had jumped up onto his knees and tried to calm her down.

"Hey it's alright Vanille, daddy's here; don't cry, don't cry."

Yaag scoffed at him, before directing his attention to the woman glaring at him from the ground.

"It's funny to see them acting that way isn't it?" When the man leaned down to pick her up by the collar, Claire picked up dirt and threw it into his eyes.

"He's human you bastard what the hell makes it funny?" She stood back up and kicked him in the knees. Sadly he didn't fall over but his balance did become unsteady. The man furiously rubbed the dirt from his eyes, which were now bright red.

"You bitch you have no right to attack me!" He moved to grab her by the collar but Sazh got back up and knocked his arm away.

"If she has no right then why do you?" He asked, quietly, but his anger was obvious.

"I can do whatever I want with her she's my fiancée." Yaag spat.

All he received was scowls, which made his mood worsen. He gave up on the idea of assaulting Claire again with the man in the way serving as protection, but he did have his weaknesses that he could exploit. He took a couple of steps back so he couldn't bat his arm out-of-the-way like before, and took out a gun neither had known was on him, and with a confident smile, pointed it at the child watching them with fearful eyes.

Sazh's eyes went wide, and he lost the ability to move, even his breathing became troubled. Claire watched Yaag with disbelief, he was insane! Pointing a gun at a child that had nothing to do with anything.

"Stop it!" She screamed at him, "He hasn't done anything you crazy bastard!"

"Or what?" Yaag frowned at her. He had beaten them into a corner and they knew it.

Claire looked up to Sazh; the man was frozen on the spot, visibly shaking. If he took a step to stop him, Yaag would pull the trigger before he was even half way there. She bit her lip, hard enough to draw blood. The psycho had them in a corner, and there was only one way out of it. She was going to regret this, but there was nothing else to do. She put on a calm expression, and took deep breaths to calm her mind.

"Put the gun down, I'll do whatever you want, just put it down." She got an instant reaction, Sazh turned around to her, his expressing screaming for her not to do it, not for a stranger. Yaag's was victorious.

He returned his gun to its holster hidden behind his suit jacket, and strolled up to the defeated looking woman. Her eyes were dark with anger directed to no one but herself, and Sazh's pained expression didn't plan to leave any time soon.

Yaag wrapped his finger around a loose stand of her hair, smiling smugly. "So you'll agree to be my fiancé?"

Claire turned her head away, feeling too sick in the pit of her stomach to look into his eyes. Sazh was silently begging with her to say no, he'd already put the gun back after all, but she knew if she was to refuse he'd bring it back out and shoot not only his son but him as well.

She felt like she was selling her soul to the devil. She lifted up her head, eyes confident and looked him right in the face.

"Yes."

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><p><strong>My butt hurts...not good to sit on a bed for four hours straight. And after I wash up my sister's going to make me watch Vampire Knight, so more sitting down.<strong>

**And if you did read the top authors note, you'll understand why reviewing is such a good idea right now, no one gave DL a review last update. How depressing it's my second most popular story! It gets over a hundred hits each chapter. But since I took the match ups off the description, this has been ten times more popular. Yeah, I got over 1000 hits last update, unfortunately I only got 2 reviews. My sister doesn't count. HOW INCONSIDERATE!**

**2 out of 1000? NO wonder Ari is adamant on believing no one gives a shit about me.**

**Jya ne!**

**~Serah Villiers Valentine**


	12. Chapter 12

**(3,227 words) Okay it has been exactly two months an two days since my last update, don't question why I know that but sorry for the time it took to get this out. I took a month off FFN from recommendation from my doctor and mother who were both worried over my clearly obsessive habits with this. I'm trying not to let this take up all my time so updates are probably going to be a little slower maybe.**

**Also I'm going on holidays tomorrow to Queensland and even if my sister decides to take the laptop I've decided to stay off it so I don't spend all my time writing. I'm going to Dreamworld for the first time since 07 (I think it was). It and Movieworld are Australia's best themes parks so yay. So no writing until around the end of january probably, and on the 31 school starts up again so that's another thing to slow me down. I'll try to not let the gap between updates get too big, two months at most.**

**I'm not too sure what to do with Fang's side of the story, not much happens for a little bit but I'm trying my best to make her chapters enjoyable, I want to write Lightning's more since that is more interesting but I'm sticking to switching perspective each chapter.**

**Enough of this, hope you enjoy and please give a review I love reading them so very much.**

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><p><span>chapter 12) <span>

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><p>Fang stretched and pushed back the covers. She'd quickly gained a habit of sleeping in later than usual since coming here. If she was to notice one difference about living in Cocoon and Pulse was the difference of the sunlight and heat. By this time of the day back on Pulse the heat would be already getting unbearable and the room bright from the light of the sun shining in. Here the wind would sweep in and the sun blocked out by trees, making it dramatically cooler. It was messing with her head and making her completely unable to tell what time of day it was anymore. And because the sun went down earlier and it was dark most the night she found herself getting tired far earlier as well. She knew it would take time for her to adjust, but after almost a month already she was getting sick of her messed up body clock.<p>

Gradually she pulled herself out of bed and made her way out of the room. She found her way to the stairs and then to the kitchen. As she found Jane was having the same problem as her and thanks to them waking up at similar times the teen would make a breakfast large enough for the both of them knowing that around the time she finished Fang would be waking up and coming downstairs. This became something they did alone because the two men in the house did not sleep in late because of the different weather, which convinced the others of it being earlier than it truly was.

Fang sat down at the table and rested her head and arms on it, falling back into a slight sleep. She slowly fell deeper into a sleep which was promptly disrupted by a high-pitched voice which appeared from behind her.

"I don't think you should do that Fang, might sleep for the rest of the day and that spot don't look comfortable." Jane supposed.

Shifting her position she sat up and shook herself awake. "Didn't even notice." She mumbled under her breath, wiping sleep out of her eyes. "Maybe it's the bed that hates me but I never stop feeling tired."

"It could be the change of sleeping patterns; it also could be the different bed. I sat on your old one back in Pulse one day and I'd have to say it was far softer." Jane Reckoned as she placed a set of plates on the table.

"Why do you know what my bed's like now? And why three plates when it's only us?" She pointed to the third plate the teen had set down.

Jane walked back into the kitchen to fetch the food she had cooked whilst replying, "First, from when I woke you up when you slept hours past noon, and also big brother is still in bed. He said he was up a few hours ago but he hadn't eaten anything, so I promised when I made us lunch I'd make some for him as well."

Fang nodded and toyed with a cowlick she'd spotted into a corner of her sight, earning an odd look from Jane when she started complaining when it stubbornly stayed out-of-place. "That's nice of you. He say where Cid is?

"Saying 'work' is too vague for me when I don't know what he does. And on that subject, what does he do surely you of all people would know."

"Nope, haven't a clue, don't care, it doesn't bother me whatever it is." She answered as she dug into the food Jane had set before her.

The teen half chuckled, half sighed as she began to make her way to the door to wake her brother, "Somehow I'm really not surprised."

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><p>Fang sighed and eyed the golden sky out the window. She had sat down on the cushioned sill not long after breakfast, and seeing as she had had it at noon by the time she sat here the sun was already falling behind the horizon. She had absolutely nothing to do, simple as that. She didn't get much of a chance to talking to one of the few others in the house seeing as after eating Jane would disappear into some corner of the house unable to be found until nightfall. And for Ben he'd either do the same or if Cid was home he'd be talking with him, and Fang didn't even want to be in the same room as them whilst they were with each other much less actually be rude enough to randomly barge into a conversation of theirs. Sure she would for other people, but it was different when it came to them.<p>

She hadn't a thing to do here, back in Pulse she had a million things, none of which her parents allowed but a millions different things all the same. There was a library, but she didn't care much for reading, truly she wasn't the best at it either. When she was a kid she'd ignore her tutor half the time, he was boring and her child mind decided that made him not worth listening to. She regretted it a little, seeing as in the academic sense she wasn't near as smart as she could be. It was something she refused to speak about because of how much she despised the idea that women aren't as smart as men. She knew Jane had a habit of strolling around the house to pass the time, but that didn't interest her either. And on account that her only friends were living as slaves in Pulse, she didn't see a reason to go outside; no one to visit, no place to go, not in a town like this.

She really wasn't being herself at the moment, some days she just felt like sleeping and nothing else. She didn't know what she could be doing at all, some days she would think about her sister and want to do something about her situation, but then she'd remind herself that she had no way to go about it. She had known from the start that she couldn't immediately try to do what she intended, she needed to first have a connection to someone, anyone, that could get her in contact with the Asylum where Vanille was held. Cid had promised he'd try to help her, a promise which so far proved worthless.

"Fang? Are you still with us?" Jane's voice appeared suddenly.

Unexpected of it Fang jumped and banged her head on the wooden sill behind her, she groaned and rubbed where she'd been hit hoping there wasn't a lump forming.

"Fang? Your head's still in this world isn't it? You looked really deep in thought, what're you thinking about?" Jane cocked her head.

Fang pushed herself off the sill, and eyed the straw basket the teen held for a second before deciding to give her an answer, "A lot at once it doesn't really matter. So what're you doing?" She asked, seeing as she had nothing better to do.

"We're short on food so I'm going to buy more. You can come with unless you have anything better to do. I know people will find it rather strange for someone to be treating their maid like a friend out in the open."

"Jane, I'm yet to find out if there is anything to do in this house."

Fang received a momentary strange look. "I'll take that as a yes."

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><p>Fang jumped on the opportunity to talk with someone and to also be able to leave the house at the same time. She quickly became absorbed with her conversation with Jane that she took no notice of the odd looks she received from the people they passed, and certainly failed to notice one woman whose eyes were firmly locked onto her with deep interest.<p>

She wore a frilly black and green dress, tattered at the ends from age. Her eyes were a deep brown with a tint of gold that shone bright when she faced the sunlight. Her raven coloured hair was tied up into a bun atop her head, a mite messy after a full day of work. She had a violet tucked into her fringe, which she constantly adjusted less it fall out.

A young blond boy stood by her, watching as well the disappearing figure of the woman his friend seemed to be so interested in with curiosity. They stood in the shade of a building, in front of a faded sign saying 'Rose Lovers'. It was the saloon she had owned for longer than he'd known her. So when he realised the one that held her attention was a woman clearly of high-class, the first emotion he could feel was none other than confusion.

"Hey Lu-" He began to say but got wracked on the head by her gloved hand. Ready to complain he lifted his head to hers and was greeted by a cheeky grin.

"I already told you Maqui, its Dẻteste Amour now alright? People like me shouldn't be calling themselves by name any more okay you understand right?"

He nodded and faced ahead; trying to spot the woman Dẻteste had been watching. "So who was that woman? I haven't seen her around here before."

Dẻteste strode past him and stood at the entrance to her Saloon, "Frankly I have no idea, but last time you disappeared on me I tried to get her to help and she called me lazy." She shook her head and chuckled. "But come on, it's going to be busy tonight. Some guys down at the mines struck gold last night and tonight they're gonna celebrate. Better stay upstairs tonight, they're inviting all their mates and I know for a fact one or two are policemen who ain't going to be happy about some kid working at the bar. Some of my girls can replace you, they have the skills to."

Maqui nodded again and entered before her. "Why would you be interested in someone just because they called you lazy anyway?"

Dẻteste walked right past him thanks to a faster pace but she didn't forget to say, "Because she seems like an interesting girl."

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><p>Fang kept in a conversation with Jane for the whole time till they stood on the doorsteps of their house. Fang had by far put more into the conversation than Jane who had been for the most, silent. Though it was partially the other's fault for not allowing her a moment to speak, that she had at all was a miracle. For the loud talkative person that Fang was, being shut up in that house in total silence did no good for her, so when she got the chance to speak she said as much as she could almost fearing the comeback of the silence.<p>

They entered the house quietly as Fang had finally decided to shut her mouth, and the first thing they noticed was Cid sitting on the spot Fang had earlier in the day. She said hello but all he gave in return was a slight nod of his head to show he'd noticed her presence in the room. Jane pushed past her and stood by the man's feet, head lowered timidly as she continued to do near Fang from time to time.

"Do you know if my brother is still asleep? He was going to come with me but when I went to go find him he'd retired to his bed again."

Cid lifted his head to meet her enquiring gaze, he nodded and said a quiet yes; she smiled in response and left the room to go put the food she'd bought in the cupboards. When they were alone Fang walked a mite closer to him and leaned her left shoulder against the wall, she looked at him closely, inspecting him to see if she could figure out what was running through his head by his expression. When she got nothing she instead asked,

"Why're you so silent, what the crap are you thinking about? I think you weirded out Jane back there. Not like she'd actually say so but you could see it."

Cid twisted his head to look up to her, even seeing his whole face did nothing in helping her figure out his thoughts. He was hard to read, at least for her. "Five things at once I guess." He joked without a laugh, she frowned when she realised he'd gone and repeated to her what she used to always reply when he asked her what'd she'd been thinking back when they were kids.

"Oh haha." She rolled her eyes, she scowled getting annoyed now and continued to ask, "Seriously Cid, you're quieter than usual and from personal experience I'd say something is up."

He turned his head to return his gaze to the ground. "You'd be right in saying that then. Your parents are dead." He said in a calm and steady voice not even remotely shocked or saddened by the knowledge.

"HA!?" Fang pushed herself off the wall and gaped at him in disbelief, "What? Am I hearing right?"

"If that's how you're reacting you have. Your parents have died, and a handful of slaves to go with it." He informed her of the extra bit of information he'd also received.

"But…what…eh?" She shook her head, eyes wide, unable to digest the information. "How…why?" She questioned loudly, though she already had a clear idea of what must've happened.

"Rogue Cocoonian soldiers wanting to have some fun. According to some of my father's businessmen what they'd heard from what slaves they did find was that eleven soldiers had snuck away from their camp near the battle field at the Steppe. They'd attacked a handful of houses, both of rich folk and plantations. They didn't burn down your house as they did the others but I was told they had mighty fun smashing it to pieces."

Fang was silent, her overwhelming thoughts and emotions nailing her to the spot. She shook weakly and bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. She felt anger at the reckless soldiers who had to have killed a fair few innocents that night; she felt sadness for the slaves that were killed for something that could never have been their fault; and she felt confusion, for not even being able to understand what she felt at the loss of her parents. Unable to make herself ask for any information on the hated couple, she forced out a different question she didn't care about,

"Did your father get attacked?" By the end it'd turned into a weak whisper as she lost her ability to speak in its entirety.

Cid shook his head, "No, I've heard no word of any damage done to him or his house. He's fine."

Fang nodded as she continued to try to get her head around everything. Too sudden, way too sudden. Those people who'd worked at her house as slaves were more a family to her than her own, minus her precious little sister. Just knowing even one had been hurt hurt her in turn. She hadn't been close to all of them, but they'd at least been a friend to her, all of them old enough to think. She'd grown up in that house regardless of what she really felt about it. Being away from it created a strange feeling in her that she couldn't help but hate and hope for it to go away, knowing it was gone forever deepened that feeling and made her know it wasn't something to up and leave. And her parents, they were dead. What she felt about that? She didn't know, she was too confused to make sense of her thoughts. She wouldn't say they raised her, the slaves did that, but even so they had always been there even if it was in the shadows in the corner. She hated them she despised them for all they'd done to those she loved, but the knowledge of them having been murdered, brutally no doubt caused, though tiny, a peculiar sense of sadness. She was sad, actually sad, that they were gone.

She ran her thoughts on a loop, trying to take it all in. It truly had been a lot. And when she'd run it through five times over, a certain thought appeared in her head and made her worry.

"Hey Cid?" She whispered as she still had trouble with her voice.

"Yes." He eyed her with a look a mix of confusion and concern. Worry was not something he was used to seeing on her face.

"Do you have any idea what's happened to Sazh? And Annette too."

He said nothing, knowing if he was to answer he'd have to answer carefully knowing how Fang felt about them both. They were more like parents to her than her real parents. She had even seen their son as a little brother, and if she had had the chance to get to know Annette's baby she would have seen them in the same way.

"I've heard nothing about too adults with a young son and a baby, as Annette would have had to have had it by now. But I can tell you that the slaves that my father's acquaintances got this information from did make mention that the slaves who also died were young. Obviously neither Sazh nor Annette fits that description so what I can say is that they should be safe. But if we ever are to hear anything of them again is up to the future."

Fang nodded, and kept her head low. "That's good." She mumbled in a strained voice, he could make out a small smile on her lips. She toddled past him with her head staying low.

"Fang?" He questioned, not looking in her direction as it was clear enough she was heading to the staircase.

"I think I'll retire early okay?"

"What about Dinner? It's extremely early you know, far too early to sleep."

"It doesn't matter I'm fine. Don't wake me. I just want to sleep."

Giving up on making her think differently, Cid nodded yes despite that she had her back to him. She trudged up the stairs in silence odd for her. He felt no need to question; she didn't want him to see her tears, simple as that. Whether she was crying of happiness knowing Sazh and his family were alright, or for sadness for what had been lost he did not know; and did not want to question. This was something she'd have to deal with herself, and hopefully the sleep would do well for her.

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><p><strong>I sometimes make this up as I go along and hope for ideas to come, I do better that way than plotting out each little thing as I've attempted to do for two of my other stories. It worked fine for one because it was already 20 chapters in but I've wrote myself into a corner with DL, so if anyone is reading this that also reads Deceiving Love, could you give me a little assistance? The flashbacks that happen in it are fine I know what I'm doing there, but for the present time in the story I've no bloody idea...help?<strong>

**Hope you enjoyed and if you could please review? 3 out of 1000 people reviewing is unbelievably inconsiderate I think. This is my most popular story, and it's ten times more popular than my second most, and this isn't too popular. Trust me I don't get very much reviews all up, it'd really make me happy, you can even give concrit that's fine. Just don't tell me to kill Hope and go on and on and on about FLight as everybody had been doing annoyingly enough. Comment on the story, that's what matters.**

**Seeya next time my darling fans,**

**~Serah Villiers Valentine**


	13. Chapter 13

**(9,980 words) Done! Finally! I wrote this a week or two ago but there was beta problems. There was this person I was using as a beta but they had computer problems so I gave the DOCxs to my old beta since she didn't have any problems and had free time but all the DOCXs were there for a while so I gave them to my sister. She completed five over the weekend. My beta finished the first one in that time. That's what my sister is like for you, she's read fourty chapters of Full metal Alchemist in a day once...she's kinda crazy. I've decided that my sister will be my beta now, it's handy because we're usually in the same room as she's editing and she's plainly just good at it. She went a little nuts while editing this and I got distracted while going through it so there may be some mistakes near the end. It's pretty damn long though.**

**I tried to put as much in this as I could because nothing is happening in Fang's part of the story and I didn't want to make people wait. Some parts didn't want to be written so they ended up kinda blaugh (as my sister put it). We tried to fix those up.**

**Enjoy,**

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><p>13)<p>

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><p>Claire awoke mid-morning to an unfamiliar environment. She shielded her eyes against the bright rays of sunlight that slipped in between the curtains till they adjusted to the room around her. It was a small room with a bed in the middle and an elaborate wardrobe up against the wall on its left. There were two windows on the wall at the foot of the bed and two on the left. On the right wall stood the door.<p>

After that terrible night, Yaag had brought her here. It wasn't his house, but rather his sickly father's. The old man was being cared for by Yaag's mother, who Claire had observed to be delirious with the belief the old man would survive his sickness. For her, it'd only taken one look at the man to know he wouldn't last the month.

Yaag's parents owned a large and grand house, not as grand as her father's had been, but still extravagant. This was something she couldn't care less for, that house was gone anyway, what did it matter? Yaag intended to move north, so he saw no point in buying a house in Oerba or any neighbouring town or city. It'd just be a waste of money, as he'd already said to her three times before.

Claire had been here for three nights already, spending the greater portions of the day sleeping. She'd felt exhausted physically for the first two nights, and remained mentally exhausted still. She reckoned she'd stay this way if she'd stayed near either Yaag or his delirious mother any more. Yaag was an irritating man who believed he could get her to do anything he wanted her to do. She decided that he must really be bored, and that maybe he'd tire of having someone who'd constantly agree with him, that maybe he needed the clashes to keep things interesting for him. Or perhaps he was just a madman. Either one.

His mother mentioned to her one night about how he was trying to regain the money his father had lost, so their family could be as rich as they once were. Going down that same path, the woman also commented on the shockingly large amount of money Claire's own father owned. Hearing this, it made her wonder if Yaag wasn't in fact mad, but incredibly greedy. So much so that he'd put up with the rude oddity that was her just so one day he could get her father's money. After all while she was the eldest, she was also a woman, meaning that if he was her husband he would get her father's money in her place. It made her hope her father's mind worked differently to Yaag's; she hated the idea of that despicable man getting her father's hard earned cash. In the end she had trouble figuring out whether he was a greedy man or a mad man, so for now she put it down that he was a balance of both.

His mother was almost equally as irritating. She was a deluded moron; she believed her son was an angel and that her dying husband had many long years still to go. But simply put, 1# her son was an evil bastard and 2# her husband was on his death bed whether she liked it or not. The woman was worse than her mother it began to seem, so she avoided her best she could, only encountering her during meal times, which she'd so far been forced to attend.

Claire pulled herself up into a sitting position on the bed, and stared tiredly at her bandaged arms. The injuries she'd managed to get herself in the woods that night had been worse than she'd originally thought. Though they had stopped bleeding by the time Sazh had found her and woke her up, they were still horrible wounds and could easily open up again. That was why the bandages were there, just in case. Her arms and legs were completely covered in them. There was also some on her abdomen around a particularly nasty wound. She had bruises dotting her chest and neck, and a few marks on her cheek where Yaag had slapped her, but they were fading.

Yaag said they'd stay and wait for them to heal, since he claimed he didn't want to marry someone who looked like such a horrific mess. She was glad for it, since it put off the time when she would be completely stuck with him; she just wished it'd take longer. At least some would scar, then maybe he'd want to spend less time with her. She took him as someone who'd be obsessed with appearances. She was to be stuck in his crazy mother's house until they were all healed, then there'd be the wedding, and then she'd be forced to move north with him. She hated the idea, but it was better than it being her fault that some innocent child had gotten shot, she couldn't have let that boy's blood be on her hands.

She was about to lean back and let sleep overtake her again before she'd be forced to join Yaag and his nut case of a mother for lunch, when she heard the adjacent door creak open. She would have been shocked to see Butterfly standing at her doorway, if she had not been told how Yaag's mother had let some of her father's slave's stay here. She claimed that they needed extra help, but what she really wanted was company. Most of the slaves were the other women who survived that night, as Yaag had sold off the men for high prices to other rich folk in and around Oerba. This was the first time she'd seen Butterfly here, she thought for sure she would have made them let her stay with her father, who had been sold to a wealthy family on the edge of Oerba.

"Butterfly!?"

The teenager smiled and stepped into the room. It was at this point that Claire noticed the child standing next to her, clinging to her side. The very child she had saved three days ago. Butterfly let out a tiny giggle before explaining what she was doing here.

"Dajh here said he wanted to thank you for what you did, since he hadn't gotten the chance yet. But his daddy's been scared to let him out of his sight. So this is the first time he's been able to, and it's only because I've been looking after him. Sazh says I'm nice, so he'll trust me for at least a little while." In the time she explained this Dajh ran from her grasp and hoped up onto the bed with Claire and hugged her side grinning broadly and happily exclaiming:

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Claire tried to return the smile, but only managed a half-hearted excuse for one. She had saved his life, but for her it had paid a steep price. She didn't dare let the thought escape her, but she was scared. Yaag was a violent man, this he had already demonstrated. And mighty greedy to add to it, he'd already sold 16 slaves to different families in only three days, at a ridiculously high price too.

Butterfly sat at the end of the bed, fiddling with the blankets. "Are you sacred, even just a little? Mr Rosch is mean. I don't know how anyone could deal with someone like that for so long as you'll have to." She asked in an upset tone.

"He pointed a gun at a child because I kept refusing. I know he would've pulled the trigger if I continued." Dajh winced at the memory.

Both Butterfly and Claire frowned at the frightened child, and had the joint decision to change the subject.

"Has Yaag told you where he intends to move to?" Butterfly switched the subject swiftly.

"No, not yet. He'll probably only tell me right before we move. But that's my fault for avoiding him. He's an irritating man."

"Sazh says he's going to North Bodhum. That's where Madam Raines is, he says that if he don't at least see her she'll think he's dead, or at least fear it until she dies. She needs the confirmation, but he wouldn't mind living with her again. He calls her by her first name would you believe?" She exclaimed like it was the most bizarre thing in existence.

"There are weirder things than that. Maybe they're just close. He named that baby after her younger sister apparently."

"I guess you're right." The teenager nodded, agreeing with Claire.

Silence arose soon after that, Butterfly hadn't had much to say in the first place and wasn't good at coming up with stuff from thin air. Claire was distracted by her thoughts, and Dajh stayed as silent as he always had been, she predicted he intended to leave when Butterfly did and until then he would continue clinging to her.

"Do you find it weird to think that you won't be able to call me by 'Young Miss' for much longer?" Claire asked, it being the best she could come up with.

Butterfly shook her head. She knew it'd be rude to call a woman both married and older than her by such a name, but still she smirked and said, "Nope, I'm never going to stop calling you that!"

Claire sent her a confused look; she understood why the girl could find it funny, but not her reasons for not stopping using that title. She opened her mouth to speak but the other anticipated what she was going to ask and beat her to it.

"If you marry Mr Rosch than I'd have to call you Madam Rosch but that sounds like roach; so I shall refuse and continue to call you Young Miss like I always have."

Butterfly giggled, and Claire sighed, "Of course you would." Dajh eyed each women curiously as they laughed for a reason he was unable to understand.

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><p>Soon afterwards Butterfly and Dajh were shooed out of the room by one of Yaag's mother's elderly slaves who also forced Claire to get dressed. The room she'd been using used to belong to one of Yaag's now married sister's, and some of her clothes were still in the wardrobe. Since all of her own were burned in the fire, they were all she had to wear. It wasn't so much the stranger's frilly dresses that bothered her, but that the slaves always made sure she put on a corset, unlike they had back home.<p>

After that, she was forced to have lunch with Yaag and his delusional mother. It would have been in complete silence, if not for the woman next to her spurting out questions at random. Simple things like what she liked and how she used to spend her time. Initially she would answer, but as time went by she stopped. It wasn't like they mattered. When lunch was over the woman left her and her son to go be with her husband, Yaag would leave in silence, wherever he was going she hadn't any idea. Claire made it a habit to return to her room, having nothing else she could do. The annoying stinging pain of her injuries were hard to stand after a while, so sleeping was a good option. That way she didn't have to pay attention to them. This house was far smaller than hers had been, but with a similar set up, so finding her way back was easy, and in some odd way comforting.

Claire would have gone back to the bedroom this day just as she had the others, but instead she halted when she spotted someone playing around the entry to a small room in her peripheral vision. She twisted her head, seeing Dajh playing with a small girl she recognised as they daughter of one of her father's slaves, who she guessed must be here as well. The little girl wasn't much more than a year older than Dajh. She strolled over to them curiously, noticing the room they played in front of was a small library. It was pitiful in comparison to the one she'd had. She frowned remembering that it was completely obliterated; then couldn't help but wonder curiously if there something was wrong with her for missing a bunch of books over her own mother. To most that might seem…insane.

She took a step inside the room, and sighted Sazh sitting on a chair in the corner of the room, holding his sleeping daughter in his arms whist talking to a woman who Claire knew as the mother of the girl outside. She took a step closer before he noticed her in turn. He gave her a small smile and said hello. The woman at his side sat up and walked over, smiling herself; though so small it was barely noticeable.

"Ah, hello Young Miss, glad to see you're doing well." She said, and unless she was horribly mistaken Claire could've sworn that she'd heard embarrassment in her voice. "Sazh here has been telling me about what you did. I feel kind of embarrassed to tell you the truth…" She trailed off, letting her gaze lower itself to the ground before she continued. "I hadn't thought someone like you would have done such a thing for a stranger, especially someone like us for that matter. I'm sorry really; I misjudged you because of what your mother was like, I thought you were like her since you're both were so rude. It's almost silly to dare think that, that monster would have gladly let the child be shot if it got her out of a situation she didn't like." She stopped herself when she realised how rude it must sound for calling someone's mother a monster in front of them, she opened her mouth to apologise but Claire stopped them.

"I don't care what you think of her, she was a monster, to that I agree completely. But I'm nothing like her; the only thing I inherited was her temper."

The older woman nodded before leaving the room, still feeling embarrassed over what she'd said. She let her daughter continue playing, but informed her she'd be back soon. There was a minute of silence thereafter, only interrupted by the laughter of the two children outside the room.

Claire turned her head to look at Sazh, who was comforting his daughter who must have awoken when she had been talking with the other woman. The girl was barely crying, she seemed to be a rather quiet child. Sazh looked up as she sat next to him without a word. The first thing he did was look at the borrowed dress she wore. It was snow white with puffy sleeves and many ruffles around the bust. He tried to not react to it, he truly did, but in his attempt to not laugh, he ended up snorting. Claire glared,

"What's that for?"

"I'm sorry, but that really does not fit you." He laughed, deciding he may as well.

"I don't think any dress would." She scowled, straightening out the bottom half which had creased when she'd sat down.

"Maybe, though I didn't think that one I'd first seen you in was that bad."

"But that got covered in dirt and blood and Yaag's crazy mother burnt it. She Burnt It." She put extra emphasis on each word in the last sentence.

"Not the first time I've heard that happening. It was destroyed there's not much else you can do." He shook his head as he finally got over the sight.

"What have you been doing by the way?" Claire asked, changing the subject to one that wasn't stupid and pointless.

"Not much. That woman says we should stay here, but I'm adamant on seeing Fang. The old lady's got herself enough company I think. Dajh will be sad to leave his new friends and this town, it's the only place he's ever known after all, but he'll get used to it in time. Plus I think Fang will love to see this little girl," He indicated to the baby in his arms. "I'm almost scared to know her reaction when she finds out we named our daughter after her sister though. There are only a few things in this world that can make that girl cry and that name is one of them."

Claire nodded, not voicing a response. She got the feeling that this Fang girl must really care about her sister, if her name could provoke such a reaction. Her feelings would challenge her own for Serah.

"Hey, Fang's parents are dead too aren't they? Will that make it easier for her to help Vanille? You said that she got put in an asylum, she wants to get her out right?"

Sazh smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. It was almost sad. "I hope it will. And yes, as you guessed, she desperately wants to get her out of that place. There's nothing wrong with Vanille, she's perfectly sound, but sending her to a place like that could change things. It's something that both of us are scared for, there are no reasons for her to be there, but she'll be treated like the rest of the crazed people who're sent there. It's hell, she might as well get tortured." Sazh bit his lip and stopped himself before he went further; as he'd talked his tone had been dipped in anger, and only worsened as he went on.

"I have a feeling she's not the first person to have something like that happen to her." Claire muttered, half to herself. "I'm sure there are more people like her. More people like her father as well. Much more."

Sazh grimaced and nodded dejectedly in agreement, knowing that was the truth. Disgusting as it was. He looked up to Claire, who had stood up off the chair, holding her head in her hand.

"Still tired I take it? That night must've been more than someone like you could take." She didn't like the way he'd chosen to say it, but she knew Sazh hadn't intended it to be taken as mean. She was a rich girl, being put through a strenuous situation where she wasn't allowed to sleep for many hours was something previously unheard of. It'd taken a far heavier toll on her, than as to someone more adjusted to it.

"A little bit." She replied, rubbing her eyes. "I don't know why, all I've been doing is sleeping."

"You went through a lot. Hell, first couple times I got made to work late into the night I'd sleep for a full day afterwards; though usually I wasn't allowed such luxury."

"I guess." She mumbled tiredly, she shook her head trying to wake herself up, but it didn't work so well.

"I think you need a little more sleep. It'd do you well, plus then you won't have to deal with of those injuries. They don't look like the type that'd be healed by tomorrow." He told her.

"I should probably take that advice." She shook her head another time seeing if it'd work, only to receive a similar result. "I'll see you later then? Unless you intend to leave soon."

"Don't worry; we haven't any means to leave yet. I know that Yaag intends to move north, may take advantage of that if we're allowed to. It doesn't matter if it's not the same place, it'd be close enough."

"So you'll still be here for a while yet." She said to herself, so he didn't bother to reply knowing that was so.

Claire left the room after that. She was glad for what he'd told her, he was good company, and besides Butterfly she didn't have much else. As she walked out the door, she noticed the little girl who'd been playing with Dajh was on the floor. She was nursing her knee, meaning she must have tripped over and hurt herself. The boy was at her side comforting her as she cried. Concerned Claire stepped over to them and inspected the wound. It wasn't much, barely a scratch, but to have made it bleed at all she'd have to have hit the floor hard. The girl was pouring her eyes out.

"Mamma, I want mamma!" She screamed, making Claire jump back. She had a loud voice.

"Where is she? I didn't see where she went."

"I don't know." The child cried.

"Then how can I help?" Claire asked, wondering.

"By getting mamma!"

"But…I already said I don't know where she is." She inwardly sighed, she didn't like dealing with children when they were like this, but it didn't feel right to leave the girl in this state. And Sazh wouldn't be any help since the girl clearly would have trouble walking, but his hands were full with carrying Vanille. Claire could carry her, but only for a short while and she'd tire long before she found the girl's mother if she just blindly searched for her. Luckily fate decided to be nice to her, as not a moment later the woman in question did return as she'd promised her daughter she would. It was fantastic timing, since Claire really hadn't enjoyed the idea of carrying a bawling kid around.

The woman's first reaction was a gasp before she knelt down at her daughter's side and inquired in a panic what had happened.

"She fell I think, I didn't see it but she was like this when I came out."

"Well thanks for staying with her." The woman thanked before picking up her daughter, "Oh darling let's get you fixed up." Her crying daughter nodded happily. Dajh who'd stayed by her side the entire time followed along behind them as they left the room. Claire stood up off the ground, and without anything else to do, took the advice Sazh had given her before she'd left the room.

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><p>Claire roused late in the afternoon. The sun was sinking into the horizon, turning the sky a fiery orange and the clouds dotted about it a deep purple. She climbed out of bed; it'd been an uncomfortable rest as she had slept fully clothed. She had found out quite a while back that sleeping in a corset was a horrible ordeal.<p>

She had nothing to do, but she wouldn't dare go back to sleep, the addition of the corset made her incredibly sore, yet she knew that she couldn't simply get rid of it because she would be forced to have dinner with Yaag and that demented mother of his later. And she had a good feeling that if she didn't wear it there was a good chance that Yaag would go off at her over it. It was beginning to look like to her that he was going to go off at her for even the least important things. He had to be obsessed with perfection, which she certainly wasn't. The man was crazy for trying to deal with her.

She decided she could walk around, maybe it'd let her forget both her tiredness and her inability to breath.

She strolled around the top floor for a bit, before descending the stairs and walking about the bottom floor. She ran into quite a few of her father's former slaves who'd Yaag's mother had gotten to work here. She had the chance to talk to them for a bit, but each conversation never lasted long. They seemed to share the feelings of the woman she'd talked to earlier, before she'd chatted with Sazh. It made conversation awkward.

She was beginning to bore of the sad excuses for conversation when she ran into Butterfly, something which made her glad. The girl didn't but up a wall between them like the others all did, she didn't even go off at an odd comment, like she usually did. It was probably because of the debt she felt she had towards her. That she felt like she shouldn't dare be rude to someone who without them, they wouldn't be here at all.

They talked until Claire was forced to come to dinner, Butterfly cheerily waved goodbye and was made to leave. Dinner was a mostly silent affair; Yaag's mother was oddly silent. Claire thought that might mean there was a chance that maybe; just maybe, she was beginning to accept the truth of her sickly husband's health. It was surely a good reason for why the woman was feeling as sad as she was at the moment. But Claire felt no need to actually ask the woman, for if she was wrong she would be stuck talking to a woman who belonged in a mad house. And she didn't know anyone who'd want such a thing. She was quite surprised though, when it was not her who broke the long lasting silence, but Yaag himself. For the first time since she'd been here.

"Why have you been talking with those mongrels?" He questioned, with a harsh tone to his voice. It was a stupid question. But being the type of person he was, it was very likely that he just was generally blind to the answer. And despite understanding perfectly what he meant, she decided she would annoy him over his choice of words.

"What mongrels?" She asked with a smirk.

He glared at her, "You know what I mean."

"Only if you know the answer to your question." She replied cryptically.

His glare deepened, he went to complain when his mother interjected with the answer, which as it would be to most people, was clear to her.

"She has nothing to do; I think it just seems like the best option to her." The woman spoke up in a kind tone, hoping it'd stop the argument forming.

"Surely there's a better option in a house like this than speaking with animals."

"People." Claire cut in, "Sorry you disagree, but they are in fact people. It's actually really easy to see that to be honest." She paused then added, her smirk returning. "Actually, I'm not sorry about that, I'm sorry that you're an idiot."

Yaag death stared her, and made a sound that greatly resembled a growl. "You have better not insult me."

"I think I already did." She sniggered, "But maybe you didn't notice that. You don't strike me as being very bright."

He growled again, and his hand twitched violently, giving her the feeling he was using all his self-control to stop himself from hitting her again. She noted that, and knowing perfectly well she really shouldn't, she said:

"Want to hit me again do you? What's that supposed to get you but an ugly red mark on my cheek?" She pointed to her cheek, where the mark he'd made remained. His mother stiffened in shock, and cried out angrily.

"My son would not hit a woman, how dare you accuse him of so!" She clenched her hands into fists.

Claire just looked at her blank faced for a moment before she said anything. This woman was pitiful. "But he did hit me; see the mark's right here, "She again pointed to the red mark, "Multiple times too. Not like it's the worst thing he did. You know he actually had to point a gun at a child to get me to say yes to the proposal? He claimed he would shoot him if I said no once again, and I'm damn sure he would have done it."

"He'd never do such a thing! Get out! Out out!" His screeching mother pointed to the door, having an absolute fit.

"Gladly." Claire rolled her eyes and sat up, heading to the door. She wasn't even hungry anyway so she didn't mind letting the half empty plate of food to go to waste.

Yaag sat down like all was normal, even when his mother was still fuming. He mentioned to Claire just before she got to the door,

"Mother wrote a letter to your sister yesterday. Telling her about what happened. I'm not sure what she wrote, but I thought maybe you'd at least like to know. Maybe that girl would at least be happy knowing that finally her big sister was getting married."

Claire bit her lip, fearing how her sister would react to the news of her engagement, and the destruction of their home.

"She won't" Serah knew what she was like; she'd know it was arranged. With that she left the room.

* * *

><p>"Madam Villiers, there's letter that has come for you." An elderly voice called out to Serah, who was sitting in the front parlour eating an afternoon snack. She looked up to the woman who'd called her curiously, before jumping up to take the letter from her hands. She inspected it, noting the name of the sender. This piqued her curiosity, she couldn't think of a reason that elderly woman would send a letter to her of all people, it didn't make any sense.<p>

She opened the envelope slowly; finding it written in neat print, but largely slanted, making it rather difficult to read. She pulled it out all the way and discarded the envelope on the couch besides her. The elderly woman who had handed it to her became increasingly interested in its contents, when she noticed the intense way the girl in front of her began to stare at it, and how her hand tightened around it, causing a large crease in the delicate paper. When it was clear she had finished, Serah was silent for a time, before standing up and crunching the letter in her hand. Her stance was stiff, and her pink lips drawn to a line. It was easy to see how much the letter had bothered her. She was holding back the emotions it'd brought up, and it was noticeably hard for her to keep them from spilling over.

"Madam Villiers?" The older woman asked uneasily, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." She answered quickly. Too quickly. For a moment she could have sworn she'd seen the sparkle of a tear in her eye, but she shut them before it was too visible.

"But something seems to be wrong. I know it's not my place to intrude, but what was in that letter if I may in fact ask?" She continued to try and pry, but she got little results.

Serah forced herself to reply, and when she did a stutter was evident. "W…would you mind getting m…me some paper and ink? I…I have to write back. You can bring it to my room; I have s…something I need to do. It'll only take a moment."

"Yes, that's fine." She nodded as she let Serah pass by her, who rushed down the hall in a hurry. If she had neither scrunched up that letter nor taken it with her, she could've had a chance of reading it, but now she couldn't do nothing but guess at what it contained.

Serah rushed down the hall with the letter still firmly in her hand, going as fast as she could, as it was difficult moving so fast whilst wearing a dress like hers. She reached her destination in a huff and almost collapsed on the floor, but she grasped the wall by the door to steady herself. Snow looked up and saw her by the doorway breathing heavily, and immediately became concerned.

"Serah? What happened?" He exclaimed in alarm, she lifted her head up to show the tears running down her face. She lifted up the letter she held. He was going to take it off her to see what was written on it, but she told him it instead before he had the chance.

"The house burned down." She muttered; her face blank from shock. "Rogue soldiers."

Right away he understood, and grimaced when he realised why she was like this. "Are-"

"Mother is dead." She stated flatly, in her state it was hard to tell if this was a fact that bothered her. Her tone was not enough to tell.

"Is Cla-"

"She's…fine. The letter said that some of the slaves died too, but I don't know too much on that part. Clearly the one that wrote this didn't care about it."

Snow noticed her hesitation before she had said that her sister was fine. Something had happened to her, but she was reluctant to say it.

"Who wrote the letter, if Sis didn't?" He questioned. It was clear that she couldn't have, when Serah had said that the person that had wrote it hadn't cared for the others. Claire would be more concerned about the slaves than her mother, seeing how much she hated her.

"Madam Rosch. I don't know her very well. She's an elderly woman, I hear her husband is very sick, but all else I know about her is that she has an adult son."

"Why'd she write it then if she has nothing to do with all this?"

"Her son found Sis apparently, the morning after. The letter said she'd gotten into a fight with the others, or something along those lines. She'd been a ways away from the others. The details weren't good; I don't think the woman who wrote it actually knew them. But I think that's a common occurrence throughout the whole letter." She muttered the end dismally, something else troubled her, was what her sentence hinted. Still, she seemed reluctant to speak about it.

"There's something else in that letter isn't there? Something you're not saying?" Snow asked, sure that there was.

Serah bit her lip and lowered her head. "I don't think that woman even remotely understands what's going on." She mumbled, dodging the question.

"Serah, what else is there?"

"She's delusional, that's what I always got told about her."

"Serah!" Snow shouted, she tilted her head up to look him in the eye, her face rife with shock. "There's something else written there isn't there? I can understand if you don't want to say it, but please, tell me." His eyes were heavy with emotion; he was truly concerned about what had provoked this reaction out of her.

"The woman that wrote this mentioned how her son had been looking after his father's work in his place, since he is sickly. His father had connections with ours, and her son was finishing some things up, as Father can't do anything for a while. So he'd been coming to our house to do so. When she first started writing this I didn't understand what it had to do with anything. I didn't think anything of it nor understand what was the point in writing it at all." She paused, and bit her lip so hard that it bleed, Snow was about to get her to stop before she hurt herself further but she released it and continued on,

"I reread the part a couple times over; I just couldn't believe what she'd written next. I think he's greedy and is just trying to get father's money, I know he has a lot. But his mother is too blind to realise this, so that's why there was no comment on it. But I can tell what type of person her son must be, I don't know what he is like personally but I know enough about his parents to judge what type of character he must have. And someone like that wouldn't be doing what he's doing for any other reason." Serah paused again, the next part distressed her deeply, and it took a lot of force to get the words to form outside of her mind.

"He said nothing to Claire at all, so she would have no choice, and went straight to mother knowing how she would respond. Father wasn't there, so he could do nothing. That made things go in his favour."

Snow frowned, hoping she wasn't about to say what he thought she was going to say, it just had to be anything but that.

"I'm dead sure that this is sincerely to get at father's money, but he wanted to propose to her. He knew she'd say no, so did mother. So being the person she is, she gave him her permission. So long story short, mother got her way by arranging a marriage for Claire. And it's probably to some horrible man who'll treat her like rubbish." At saying that, Serah broke into tears. Snow pulled her into a hug to try and comfort her. She mumbled through the sobs that wracked her body,

"I need to see her Snow, I need to see her!" She clenched her hands, and cried harder.

"Then the first chance we'll-"

"No," She pushed herself away, "I have to go alone. I know that no matter what she'll never like you no matter what I say to convince her otherwise, it's just how Sis is. If things really are as they are, it's best if I go alone."

He nodded, knowing she was correct. There was no way to get around that. She gave him a peck on the lips before running off down the hall. She headed up the stairs and made her way to her room. She found couple pieces of paper placed next to a bottle of ink like she'd asked. She sat down and began to write. The letter was intended for her sister, but she knew that the madam of that house had always been a little funny in the head, and now that her husband was in such a bad state it was bound to be worse. She'd more than likely read it herself and not show it to Claire nor mention it to her. So she only wrote the bare necessities, saying that she intended to see her as soon as she could. She said nothing of her theories behind what had really occurred. Afterwards she would only wait for the time it would take for the letter to reach her, and then she'd be straight there. She deeply wished that they didn't have such a distance between them now.

* * *

><p>Claire was up in her room around noon, chatting with Butterfly, it was calming. She had become good company considering the girl had no need to go off at her at all, nor did she want to. She was better than Yaag and his deluded mother for sure. She'd been here barely over a week and she could tell the difference her husband's appearance had taken. He'd be a skeleton if it wasn't for his skin. He looked like a corpse, he'd die soon, but still his wife refused to dare think it was a possibility.<p>

When she saw Sazh most days, he looked like he was talking to himself, unless you were to notice the baby girl in his arms. He refused to let go of her the same way he refused to let Dajh out of his sight. He was a good father, better than hers had been even; he was extremely protective of his children. It made her wonder a little if Dajh ever found it annoying, as his sister was too young to understand what could be wrong.

It was funny how Claire hadn't any idea where Yaag even was, and it was he who had brought her here in the first place. The only time she saw him was at meal times which she didn't even want to attend anyway. His mother had seemingly forgot the argument they'd had a few days back, but she was out of her head, and might have very well decided to ignore the fact it had happened and decided to view them as a loving couple. Like the kind they could never possibly be.

Time slipped by slowly, and soon noon became afternoon and the sky turned a rich golden orange. Claire kept up her conversation with Butterfly during this, for it was most certainly the best way to past the time, as opposed to what the certain others in this house chose to believe. It was soon disrupted however, when an excited Dajh ran into the room.

Surprised, both Claire and Butterfly looked his way, wondering what had caused him to come in other than to make the attempt at getting out of his father's sight. It'd have to be something for sure.

"There's this weird girl downstairs." He smiled. "But that funny woman was talking to her. She smiled at me though so I think she's nice." He added.

Quizzically Claire raised an eyebrow, not able to figure out who this woman could be. Next to her Butterfly followed a similar train of thought.

"What kind of girl? Weird doesn't say much." Butterfly asked, ruffling his soft black hair.

Dajh put a finger to his lips, thinking up a way to describe her, after a minute he pointed to Claire. Specifically her hair, though it was a little difficult to see that, "Like her."

Claire blinked in surprise; he'd either meant that this woman was white, or that she had pink hair, which could only mean one thing. Hastily she got up and ran to the door, not saying a word to explain herself.

* * *

><p>Claire rushed down the stairs, and found a sight that surprised her. By the doors was Serah having a conversation of sorts with Yaag's mother. It was clear that the older of the two didn't like the idea of her being here, but Serah was being incredibly stubborn with her.<p>

"Serah?" She shouted in surprise as she neared the bottom of the staircase. Her little sister smiled at her, whilst the person she'd just been talking to pretended that she hadn't just been previously harsh to the girl, and adopted a cheery demeanour. Serah passed the woman and ran right over to her big sister, pulling her immediately into a hug.

"Oh Claire I've missed you!" She screamed.

For a moment Claire was shocked by the sudden hug, but slowly she hugged her back and said shakily, "I missed you too. What are you doing here?"

"I got a letter telling me about what happened." Serah admitted. "I'm sorry something like that had happened, but I'm glad you're alright."

Claire nodded, and tried to return the smile her dear sister was giving to her, but did not manage well with the attempt.

Behind them the older woman who'd Serah had been speaking with strode to the side of them, and asked the younger sister with a smug grin gracing her features, "So, are you staying for the wedding?"

Serah gazed at her for a second, her expression faulted and she looked away. "Can I talk to my sister first, if you don't mind?"

"Of course," She answered, "But make it short."

"We'll try." Serah replied, as they walked away.

* * *

><p>They sat down at the end of the bed in the room Claire had been using. Butterfly had left it seemed, but Claire didn't bother to think about where'd she'd gone off to.<p>

"Claire, tell me everything, and I do mean everything. I need to know. I know that woman said things that weren't quite true. I need to hear your side of the story."

"Alright then." Claire answered, then went to tell her about how after their father had left she had started to see this man around the house. Initially she had pinned him to be obnoxious, and kept it at that. He'd called her interesting, but she'd taken it as his own special way of saying she was rude and horrible, like how everyone else thought she was. She then told her about her he wanted to propose to her, and they both realised that they had the same idea that he was only after father's money and that was it. She'd gotten into an argument with mother, a terrible one. Serah frowned, as she'd hoped it would stop. But it didn't compare to the look she gave Claire when she said that the last thing she said to her was: 'Die horribly and rot in hell you stupid ugly old hag'. She said that after that Yaag had come into the room, he'd tried to calm her down and talk, simple as that. Instead she ended up angering him and he pushed her down on the bed and hit her in the face multiple times. It'd been extremely painful and had left a mark for days. But she felt sorrier for Butterfly who'd walked in on it. She'd cried after Yaag left, which must have shocked Butterfly, who had never seen her do such before.

She continued to say that when they woke up the house was under attack by soldiers. The house was on fire but they managed to make their way out side without gaining attention. They hid under the cover of a fallen branch at her secret place, she added in the part about how a thunder storm had destroyed it. Butterfly fell asleep in her arms but she was so scared she couldn't possibly do the same, so she stayed awake until morning when the soldiers had left. She went out to go find survivors, with Butterfly following close behind. She mentioned how Butterfly had lost her sister, and that all the men were burying the dead when they'd found them. Apparently Yaag had been in the house too at the time of the attack she soon found out, but like her he'd made it out. They got into an argument where he'd tried to hurt her again, but the slaves surrounded her since whether they liked her or not she certainly didn't deserve pointless punishment from him.

She'd ran off after the argument, and had gotten lost in the woods in the surrounding area; which was how she had managed to get herself so badly injured. She tripped and fell after a while and knocked herself out, Serah gasped at this so she quickly made sure to explain that she was lucky someone nearby found her. So she told her about Sazh, a slave from another plantation that had been destroyed a few days earlier. He was travelling with his young son Dajh and baby daughter Vanille. At the name of his daughter Serah couldn't help but comment on the name, so Claire did confirm for her that yes, she was indeed named after the Oerba's youngest daughter.

Yaag found her eventually, and they'd gotten into yet another argument. He'd tried to hit her yet again but Sazh saved her before he could do real harm. But him helping her put Yaag in a foul mood. So to get her to agree to the proposal, he'd pointed a gun at the child watching them. Serah's eyes were as round as bulbs when she said that. She was stunned that Yaag could do such a thing, and saddened by how her sister had indeed said yes.

Not a minute after she'd finished retelling, Claire was just about to tell Serah about what had happened since she'd arrived here, when Yaag's mother walked in the door. With a rather blank face she asked,

"Is this over?"

Though it wasn't, Serah had heard as much as she'd needed. "Why yes, why do you ask?"

The other woman frowned at her smile, "No reason, I guess I'm curious. And on that note, may I ask if you're staying for the wedding?"

Serah frowned at that and replied matter-of-factly, "I have no want to attend something fake like that. I'll stay the night and that'll be it. Then I'll be out of your hair, which I'm sure you'd be glad of."

The older woman scowled, "It'll be good riddens." She closed the door behind her.

"She's a terrible woman." Serah stated after she was sure she was gone.

"As if I haven't realised that."

* * *

><p>Serah left the day after like she had said she would, Claire immediately missed her presence. She was a light in this dark place, and she desperately wanted it back. They'd talked non-stop in the short time they were together, Serah told her all about her new life, all about the new friends she'd made and how much she was enjoying herself. Claire hadn't as much to say, seeing as she'd already explained the most important details early on. She didn't dodge admitting to that she had in fact gotten in more arguments than she usually had with mother. It made Serah upset to hear, but it wasn't like anything could be done about it now, when the woman was already gone.<p>

Two months passed along painfully slow. She was lucky enough to not have to deal with Yaag's delusional mother for most of this, for she had stayed at her husband's bedside close to the entire time. It would seem that it had finally caught up with her that he would soon breathe his last, and this was true, for he'd died during the night only a few days ago. A funeral was held almost immediately after, but she locked herself in her room so she wouldn't be forced to attend. She had Butterfly so she wouldn't be surrounded with nothing but silence. Yaag had made himself a pain on more than one occasion, but so far he had not hit her again, so the arguments they had were not much to her. She was starting to think as little of them as she did the countless ones she'd had with her mother.

During the two months that she had been in this house her injuries had healed, though she'd rather they hadn't. They'd help stop the future she so detested from happening, if all that they could do was slow it down. She had three scars, she had found. There was one was on her forehead that could be easily hidden by her hair. She had gotten it from the time she had tripped and fell before Sazh had found her. The other two were on one arm, from cuts that hadn't healed correctly. She was beginning to feel sick, though she was reluctant to come out and say it. She truly couldn't stand what was to come for her. She didn't want to look at a man like Yaag much less marry him. But from the moment her mother had said yes she was doomed, she had only succeeded in making it worse by saying that word herself. There was no way she could back out, if she tried running off she'd be found. Saying no was no longer an option.

It'd happen soon. He'd promised it'd be soon after she was healed up. She dreaded the day.

* * *

><p>Light trickled in from the windows, making the room shine. Claire sat on the end of her bed in complete silence, trying her hardest to calm herself. She watched the scene outside to distract herself from her thoughts, but it didn't work out as well as she'd hoped, so eventually she gave up on the idea. Downstairs there was a crowd of strangers, since the only person she had left had promised she would not come. She'd seen earlier that the rooms downstairs were done up in extravagant decorations, but only a few would care. The ones who'd believed there was nothing fake in this day.<p>

She knew the moment she'd let the word 'yes' slip from her lips that this day would come, she knew it the day she was brought to this house that'd it come far faster than she'd like. If someone could sense the amount of dread she felt right in this moment, they would never be able to imagine that she was a bride and this was her wedding day.

She was dressed in a dress that was never intended to be used as a wedding dress, but Yaag's mother had decided it would look best. Apparently it'd belong to one of his younger sister's before she'd been married off and left. It'd been left here to gather dust like all the other dresses she'd been made to wear since coming here. It was snow white with short sleeves that ended in ruffles. It was plain around the collar with the bust and hips of the dress decorated in flower patterned lace. The skirt of the dress was plain, with the exceptions of the cream ribbons that decorated the ends. To cover her arms were gloves made with a similar patterned flower lace as the lace on her dress. Earlier a woman she hadn't yet seen in this house came up and did up her hair in a bun atop her head, pinning a rose to it. But in the position she lay in, she had surely ruined all her hard work.

She would have to go down in about half an hour for the ceremony. She wished she could leave right now, but she wouldn't be able to make it out of the house without someone spotting her. She turned onto her side, so she wouldn't have to look at the door. With it no longer in her sight and her mind being so deeply caught up in her thoughts, she didn't notice it open.

"She was right that you'd make a mess of it." A high pitched voice came from the doorway, letting out a tiny giggle. She knew of only one person with a voice that high, and knew of only one person who would go near her at this moment. So when she pushed herself up and looked to the door and found a smiling Butterfly standing there she was not even remotely surprised.

"The woman that did your hair told me that she was sure you'd wreck it. You'd been lying on the bed when she came in, so she was sure you'd do it again when she left. It seemed she was quite right." There was amusement in her voice, but it quickly turned serious. "Young Miss, are you scared at all?" Her voice was heavy with the concern she so obviously felt. In a short time she had really come to respect Claire, and she didn't want anything worse to come her way. Considering the life she had lived, she'd been through a lot.

Claire bit her lip, and averted her gaze. "I might be. I know I hate that man more than anyone. I can't stand to even look at him."

"You really don't want this, hey?" Butterfly said half to herself as she sat down beside her. Without her permission she took her hair out and fixed it up. Claire did not comment on it since she'd realised what she was doing the moment she'd started.

"I never wanted it. Not one bit. I dread what's to come of my life." She went silent then, and when it looked like she wouldn't say anything else beyond that, Butterfly asked in a small voice.

"I want to come with you you know."

"Huh?" Claire looked to her, confused.

"He wants to move north, so you'll have to too. I want to see if I can convince him to let me come. You'll still need servants won't you? I'll just have to not mention to him how clumsy I am or that'll dash my chances."

Not sure how exactly to respond to that, Claire just replied. "Thanks." Knowing that Butterfly wanted to be there for her when she didn't have any one else that could.

* * *

><p>"I do." The very words made her sick to the stomach, and the kiss was like poison.<p>

The ceremony had passed in a blur, it'd taken all her concentration just to keep her mind on it, because the top thought in her mind was running off and never coming back. She felt sick, she felt angry, and most of all the emotion she was least likely for her to admit to, scared. This man was a violent bastard, who was to say what he'd do to her in the future? The idea of him literally being the death of her didn't seem out there to her, not one bit.

During the reception she ate nothing, she was feeling far too sick to dare take a bite. And the first moment she got, she snuck out of the room and ran upstairs where she hid in her room and hoped that no one would find her. Sometime during the night Butterfly came into her room saying that she hadn't been able to see her where everyone else was, so this had been her first choice to look. She'd brought Dajh with her, since apparently they'd been talking together during the wedding in a room on the other side of the house.

They talked for the rest of the night; Dajh even fell asleep a little way in to the conversation, his head rested on Butterfly's lap. It was clear that no one had cared about her absence, since no one came to look for her, and no one questioned her the morning after when she was found sleeping over the covers of her bed with the dress still on and a slave girl sleeping soundly besides her, with a child fast asleep on a chair in the corner of the room.

* * *

><p><strong>Done nyan.<strong>

**Hope you enjoyed. P.S, if anyone reading this is reading deceiving love as well, could you please give it a review? No one has reviewed it for four chapters now. Makes me glad I'm posting this since I know I'll get at least 1. It's usually 3 despite the couple hundred reading this...but one will be my sister...and one will be my friend...so that makes it 1...**

**Well, Jya ne.**

**~Serah Villiers Valentine**


	14. Gust of wind

**(3,913 words) It has been exactly one year since I caught the full sized Hylian Loach on my brothers file on OOT! Nya! I'm so happy. For those who know what the hell that is, yes I'm crazy, but the Hylian loach is my precious and I adore it. It means very much to me, so now apparently I must update now so I can remember the day. Nyan! Also my brother's file is very important, it is my childhood. So I felt honoured that the first time I caught it full sized was on that file of all of them.**

**Now on to more important and relevant things, after this things will start happen finally. So the coming chapters should be good unless my writing fails. That's a good thing. I apologise in advance if there is any mistakes, I can't remember if I've gone through this. I'm pretty sure I have, and I know my sister/beta has. But there may be a few mistakes that she's overlooked or added in after not understanding something if I have not gone through.**

**I would've updated this a week ago but I completely forgot this existed. Some people may wonder what the hell as this is my most popular story, well to be perfectly honest it's not even in the top five for me, so it's quite possible. Also I've been having trouble with other stories and have ended up with three unfinished chapters. I have a draft of one and are currently finishing another I should've finished three weeks ago.**

**Well, anyway, hope you enjoy, reviews shall be much appreciated.**

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><p>14) Gust of wind<p>

* * *

><p>Early in the morning, Jane was wandering around the house aimlessly. There wasn't a single thing she could do today, she needn't go out and fetch anything since they had all they needed. And she couldn't clean either since she had practically scrubbed the house all over in the days past; she'd even gotten Fang to help her since the woman had even less to do. She'd go mad eventually if things kept up as they were, the woman was too social for her own good, she needed things to do and people with which she could talk to. The first she didn't have at all and the later was a pitiful lot. Jane had begun to recommend she try to socialise with the other woman in North Bodhum, an idea she rejected each time. She couldn't stand the women she'd seen here, even a whore would be better than them. And the Pulsian woman was more than aware of the view that would be created if she did in fact befriend one, people would go about saying she was one herself, or that she was once one.<p>

As she strolled along the long hall, Jane begun to wonder if she should just give up on encouraging Fang to speak with the women of this town. She had no chance in convincing her, this she knew. She sighed and stopped, thinking deeper. Maybe it really was useless, she had hoped that there was a chance she would succeed, but now she saw after all her trying that it was unlikely she would ever be successful.

Before she could continue on her way, she overheard an intriguing sound coming from the closest room. It wasn't a human making the sound vocally, she could easily tell that it was the sound of something being moved around, what that was she was unsure, and also the reason behind it was beyond her. Knowing immediately that it would be silly to continue pondering about it when she could just open the door and she would know right away, she stepped over to the room in which it was coming from and twisted the doorknob. Inside she found Fang on the floor surrounded by sheets of paper, which she was looking through with haste. A frown had found its way onto her features, and she was beginning to look tired, showing that she had been doing this task for quite some time.

"Um, Fang? What on earth are you doing? If it's okay with me asking." Jane questioned as she entered the room. She headed towards the woman, mindful of the paper scattered messily about.

"Blame this on my father going and getting himself killed." Fang said fast, so fast it was barely audible. She continued her searching.

"I don't understand, what does paper have to do with your father's death?" Jane squatted next to Fang, for there was no room to sit down with all the paper.

"Everything." She answered as she inspected a specific sheet, but then threw it away when it was not what she was looking for. "A bunch of his stupid crap now belongs to Cid, because of me of course but that's not what matter at the moment."

"And what does?" The younger of the two asked with a tilt of her head.

"Well this should also mean that I can get Vanille out of that stupid place. My first problem is there are some papers I need to find, they have the information I need. Now it's not like I ever asked my father what they were all about and Cid doesn't even know that much about them of course, so don't go asking me why because I haven't any idea either, I just know I need to find them."

"But how are you going to find them if you don't know anything about them? Have you even seen them before? There's a real big hole in your plan Fang if you haven't noticed." Jane pointed out.

Fang smirked at her for a moment before diving back into the papers. "Ah, but that's where you're wrong. I think there's about two or three but what I do know is that in the top corner they all have the name of the asylum written on them. So I'm looking for them using that."

"Well that's a good idea yes, but if you don't know exactly how many there are then maybe you shouldn't make such a big mess of things, it'll be easy to miss one."

"You're wrong there too! See here's the pile I've already gone through." Fang pointed with both hands at a mountain of paper on her left, "And here's the pile I'm yet to go through." She pointed to a mountain of paper on her right, where to her centre merged with the pile she alleged she had already gone through.

Jane looked quizzically at her; the piles were not even remotely separate as she so claimed. Maybe her belief that Fang would slowly go mad was not overboard at all but perhaps right on the mark; and perhaps she'd already gone mad.

"So do you want to help? I could do with some assistance, I've been here forever and I'm still not done."

"Well I do know the alphabet but I haven't any idea how to spell Asylum. I don't think I'll be much help."

"Oh don't worry; I didn't know either, until-" Fang twisted around and reached over to a single piece of paper placed far away from the others. ""I found this." She pointed to the paper, "It's the first sheet. I found it pretty early on so it did trick me into thinking this would be easy, evil paper." She held it out to Jane for her to take.

She knew what each letter was, but didn't know what each word was, so she took her time sounding them out. Fang grinned and offered her some help.

"It says Nautilus Asylum for the mentally insane. The first one's a funny looking word so I won't blame you for not being able to say it. First time I saw it I argued with someone that it wasn't really spelt that way."

Jane gave her a funny look. "But it looks like Nautilus would be spelt that way, why on earth did you go as far as to argue with someone over it?"

"I've always wondered that myself, I reckon I was just being an idiot trying to annoy my tutor in the end."

"What a strange child you must've been." Jane muttered as she begun to assist Fang in finding the remaining sheets.

With the assistance Fang managed to find the other two in no time, the only problem was that when they were finished Fang chose the most perfect time to announce. "And now we have to put this all back into a neat pile."

Jane groaned but despite being against it she did the polite thing which was to help Fang fix up the pieces of paper. It would have been simple enough if not for the fact that there were, similarly to the sheets they had searched for, sheets that went together and had to be put together. At first this was as difficult as their search, but as time went on and the mountain of paper shrunk and each piece became far easier to find.

As they finished up, Jane couldn't help but ask, "Hey Fang, you wouldn't mind going for a walk tomorrow would you?"

"Not at all, why you asking?"

"Just so we can get out of the house before you go absolutely mad."

Fang laughed at her words, "Good idea."

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><p>As promised soon after breakfast had been eaten the duo left the house to go for a walk. Jane held in her arms a small basket with slices of bread inside in case they got hungry whilst they were out, as they intended this to be a long walk. They had agreed to make it an hour or two. The sun was in the centre of the sky as they set out, and barely a cloud in the sky. A cool breeze swished about, sweeping away the heat of the sun above. They started out in silence, Jane was fine with watching the path before her feet, and Fang was more interested with the oddly different shades of green and brown littered about from all the plants. Silly as it was, it was one of the things she was having most trouble getting used to, she'd never seen trees with such vibrant leaves, and the same went for the plants. Still, it didn't surprise her that the first time she mentioned how it annoyed her, she was laughed at.<p>

After a little while of walking, Jane finally popped up with a question. Her voice was quiet and unsteady, "Have you ever found it odd? What is between Cid and my brother?"

"Hmm?" Fang took her attention away from her surroundings and returned it to the girl besides her. "That'd be mighty rude of me to tell you the truth. There's no why I'd allow myself. Besides, Cid's been my friend since I was young, nothing about him can weird me out. Frankly I was more bothered that Rygdea knew everything from the get go without us ever having to tell him anything."

Jane smiled crookedly. "Oh yeah, Ben said you were the same too, I remember now. Don't worry; I won't think any less of you."

"I wouldn't expect you to; you're too nice a girl to let that one fact bother you aren't you? Besides, sure I don't like guys but there's never actually been anyone I've liked. Girls are pretty and all but they can have the worst of personalities sometimes."

Jane let out a short giggle, "You've made that apparent." She sighed. "I think it did bother me a little when big brother first told me he had feelings for another man. But then I reminded myself that this is my brother we're talking about here. I've known him forever, and this doesn't change anything. It's up to him who he loves, not society."

"That's a pretty damn good mindset. I just wish the rest of us could think like that. Then maybe I would've chased after that girl instead of letting her go." She mumbled the last part, but Jane caught it and with a quizzical expression questioned,

"But I thought you said you'd never liked anyone? Who's this girl?"

Scratching the nape of her neck, Fang averted her eyes in a near embarrassed reaction and with an outwards sigh admitted, "Look, I'm not saying I liked her or nothing, didn't know her well enough, but there was this one girl I saw that really caught my eye. It was the crazy Farron woman's daughter I think, the older one I'd say. I recall that those two girls' had the oddest hair colour ever and I doubt it couldn't be any other than one of them that I saw. She was rushing around for some reason, and bumped into to me. She didn't notice, or if she did she didn't show it. I swear I've never seen someone that pretty before, but I only saw her for a moment, and then she was gone. I kinda really regretted not chasing after her. I'll probably never see her again now that I'm on Cocoon." She frowned sadly, then her eyes widened as she remembered something else.

"Oh what if her house was one of the one's that were attacked? She could be dead even!"

Quickly Jane placed a hand on the taller woman's shoulder and in a comforting voice said, "I'm sure she's fine. You shouldn't worry so much."

Forcing out a smile, Fang replied. "Thanks Ja-" And it was then that a young child ran into her and almost knocked her over.

"Wha!?" She exclaimed, as she hastily steadied herself. When she looked down she was surprised to see a small brunette boy clinging to the lilac folds of her dress. He was in a black sailor style outfit with a tiny hat on his head. He had pudgy cheeks and bright green eyes. He couldn't be more than four.

"Eh? Where'd you come from little guy?" Fang asked when she got over her shock of the sudden arrival.

In complete silence he pointed over to a trio of woman heading towards them. The woman closest was a chubby woman with the same curly brown hair and equally as bright blue eyes. Her brown dress only assisted in making her weight appear more than it was. One of the women following behind her was of a similar weight, only wearing a blue dress that didn't look so horrendous on her. The third took Fang by surprise as she was a far younger woman, or at least by appearance, with white hair and brilliant emerald eyes. To add to the surprise, the style of her jade dress was clearly Pulsian.

"Robert, how dare you run off like that!? Mamma won't be able to keep up if you do it again." The chubby brunette did not sound angry at all, but her tone was certainly reprimanding. The toddler, Robert as Fang now knew his name to be, ran over to his mother and allowed her to pick him up. He was perpetually silent. The two woman following behind caught up as the child was returned to his mother

"I'm sorry about that; I don't know what's wrong with him some days." The woman apologised in place was her quiet son.

"Oh it's alright, doesn't bother me at all." Fang replied with a grin.

The other woman nodded with a smile, before with a curious expression inquired, "Hey, I don't believe I've seen your face here before. Who are you if I may ask? My name is Mary Foxx."

"Oh it's Oe-"She bit her tongue before she called herself by her maiden name accidentally. Just another thing she had to get used to, her different name. "Fang Raines. Me and my husband moved up here shortly after our marriage. It hasn't been much more than a month and I haven't really gone out either."

"Don't know anyone I assume?" Mary chuckled.

Fang painted on a smile. This Mary woman appeared to be the type of woman she would always go out of her way to avoid. "Ah, yes. I'm not very good at befriending people. It's never been a strong point for me."

"It didn't appear to be either; otherwise I doubt you'd be using your maid as a companion." She said it with such disdain that it sickened Fang. Why the hell would you sacrifice lives in a war when it would come out with no results? Whether slavery was legal or not, dark skinned people would be treated like crap.

"Oh, it doesn't bother me that much. Jane has made for good conversations. It may surprise you but they've been far more interesting than with my friends back home in Oerba. More broader subjects I suppose." She grinned; to shove it in their face she'd rather her maid's company than them any day. Mary scowled, and so did the other brunette to her left. The younger woman on their right however smirked and came very close to laughing, but covered her mouth before any sound came out. Fang decided she like her then.

The atmosphere around them darkened, and to lighten it the brunette woman who had previously stayed silent outstretched her hand and introduced herself. "I'm Tiffany Louise. I'm sure if you get to know us you'll see that we make much better company than that of a maid."

Fang shook her hand and responded with. "Oh I'm sure you will." She was being sarcastic, and did nothing to hide it.

Mary scowled, and with a huff begun walking away, or storming away to put it correctly. She called back, "Tiffany, Nora, we're leaving now." She turned her head just a mite and side, "Hopefully we'll be seeing each other again Mrs Raines."

"I'm looking forward to it." Fang rolled her eyes, but the only one who noticed was the white haired woman as the others were already leaving.

She chuckled and sighed, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, but those two are like that. I don't think your youth has assisted you here, they'll think you are insolent."

"You're not much older than me are you?" Fang questioned, curious.

"Well if it makes the difference obvious. From the sounds of things, you are a newlywed, and I have a son who shall be twelve in the coming months."

Fang laughed, "So you don't have much of an age gap to those hags? That just doesn't seem right."

"I'm aware. I'm Nora Estheim by the way. It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs Raines, and I'm quite sure your maid is far better company than Mary and Tiffany." She waved and started on her way to catch up with the other two.

"Call me Fang by the way; that name just feels wrong."

"Fang it is then. I'll be seeing you later Fang." She waved goodbye and that was that.

"I'll be looking forward to it." She said this to herself, but unlike before, she was being serious. This Nora woman seemed fun, much better than all her other choices that's for sure.

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><p>Sometime after Fang's little conversation with the trio of woman, she and Jane had rested on a patch of grass near what Fang had decided had to be the town's largest house. In comparison, her house was about two-fifths the size. It was a magnificent structure painted snow white with blue dotted about here and there. It was vacant, so neither had a problem being so close to it. But it made Fang wonder, so many people here would long for a place such as this, so why was it empty?<p>

After deciding it was probably too expensive for most the town's inhabitants, Fang left her thoughts alone and begun to chew the slice of bread Jane had given her. They took the time to rest after Jane had begun to complain of sore feet, Fang was having similar pain, but didn't care to admit to it. Still the rest was nice. The cool breeze that had been sweeping about when they'd left the house was still around, and Fang found it rather refreshing. With the fewer trees around, the sun felt hotter than it had before, but the wind helped make it bearable. She wished they'd been more days like this back in Oerba, but that could not have been so for unfortunately for them, as Oerba was one of the hotter places on Pulse.

Jane laid on her back and looked up at the blue sky, watching as the tiny clumps of clouds moved across her sight. "It's peaceful here; since it's further away from town not as many people pass by. You know I only counted seven since we left the house. Not including that child but still."

"If you went into the town you wouldn't be able to count them all, hey?" Fang said as she laid back in the same manner as Jane.

"I'd say so; quite a few people live in North Bodhum. Most live in the town don't they? Only a couple rich folk live on the outskirts."

Fang hummed in agreement, before diverting her attention to the clouds. As time went by the sky was turning a beautiful shade of gold. They'd have to head back soon enough, but they chose to enjoy this for a while longer. Sure they were stuck in silence as much as they would at home, but here it felt so different. It wasn't boring, it didn't feel cramped, they weren't feeling restless at all. It was calming and serene.

She closed her eyes just as a gust of wind rushed past them, without sight to tell her what was what, she felt the most oddest and overwhelming sense of freedom. As if nothing could chain her to the ground and she could float up into the air as she were a bird, or run wild and free in a field forevermore with nothing to halt her. If logic would not allow something as bizarre as that, then she longed that society could, in a metaphorical sense. Society's chains were pointless for the most part; there were many they could do without.

Reluctantly she opened her eyes and pulled herself into a sitting position, thinking deeply. As she did this Jane took notice and felt the need to question.

"Fang? Are you alright? You look very serious."

"I'm fine, I'm just thinking." Fang replied, without anything in her tone to give hint if something was troubling her or not.

"It looked like it did. I'm sorry if I'm mistaken."

"There's no need to apologise Jane." Fang smiled and let out a short chuckle. "But I'm thinking, you know that Dẻteste woman? She's very interesting."

"You only met her for a second, I doubt that's anything to help grasp her personality. But I'd say she must've lived a very interesting life. Most people wouldn't like it I'm sure."

"If I see her again, I'll make sure to have a proper conversation this time. I wouldn't mind befriending her, just something different you know. She and Nora seem to be the only likeable people in this place."

"Oh Fang don't!" Jane yelled, immediately going into an upright position. "She may be a whore! What will people think when they see you with such a woman? They'll call you a harlot. You don't want that."

Fang didn't react badly to Jane's reaction; in fact she grinned and responded with a cheeky sounding. "Too late." Then her expression turned serious. "Besides, if I cared about what people think of me I would've let my mother marry me off to some bastard, force myself to love him, look after him and bear his children even if he beat the shit out of me every night. Instead I've married my friend so I wouldn't have to deal with anything of that nature, and in doing so allowed him to stay with his lover who is in fact another man. I've even accepted you as my friend, that speaks for itself. And I know that no matter how people stare at me or what rumours are created because of it, I will not force my husband to touch me when neither of us have any want to, just to create a child that will please the people around us and make them think we are a loving couple."

Jane was taken aback by Fang's sudden serious demeanour, nothing she'd said previous had given a hint this would take a turn like this. But still, she found herself agreeing with her. Besides, it was a fact that Fang would be too stubborn to be convinced out of doing this, and she disregarded society's views as a whole. Nothing anyone could say would change her decision now that she had made it. Sometimes Jane wished people didn't care so much for what other people thought, or at least for people to think things through and be reasonable. But it'd be a long time yet before society could develop a brain, if it did at all.

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><p><strong>My sister is now the Khal and her fake fiancé is the Khaleesi. People who watch Games of Throne may be confused by that. But the Khaleesi has been the Khaleesi for a long time now so I've decided that my sister should be the Khal, it is only right. The Khaleesi's mother was very confused and still doesn't understand how this works.<strong>

**I have no idea why I just said that, it was an urge and I had to follow.**

**Please review it shall be very much appreciated, I don't really care what you say, just to know what you think of this story is enough. The difference between amount of views and reviews is just wrong. It has the same average as one of my stories which doesn't even have 1000 views. This has over 10,000. **

**Jya ne,**

**~Serah Villiers Valentine**


	15. Devil Incarnate

**(9,822 words) sorry if I haven't updated in a bit (actually, I can't remember last time this was updated to be honest). I had other things to do, tests and all that, so I had to put Fan fiction off. I finished this a week ago, my sister/beta forgot to tell me she'd finished editing when she had...three days ago.**

**The little conversation in this (I have a feeling people will know it when they see it) will be repeated in the next chapter, but it'll be a little different surely. You'll understand when you read it.**

**Oh, I'll just mention it here because it has the most likely chances of being seen, but since I've gotten my scanner to work, I'll be uploading my pictures on Deviant Art. My account name is super SAKURA 64. The picture of submitting on there tonight has a lovely story to it, which basically goes a little like this: 'I didn't understand what we were doing in maths, so I drew a tea party.' I was going around telling my friends that...not even remotely realising how weird it sounded.**

**Well, anyway, hope you enjoy.**

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><p><span><strong>15) Devil incarnate<strong>

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><p>In the week that followed her marriage, Claire had been practically left in the dark as everything was organised last minute. She knew little, but knew that as soon as was possible, she and her new husband were to move north. Apparently he intended to take over a business over on Cocoon, it had once been investing in by his father, as she had been told by his mother, but was failing. Yaag's intention was to take over and alternate it a little, in hope of saving it. She had initially decided he was an idiot for trying, but after overhearing a part in one of his conversations to another man as she passed by a room downstairs, it turned out he had a good and proper way to do what he intended. And, this so called failing company were not doing as bad as she'd first been told. Still, just because this made him seem a mite less idiotic, it didn't help the hatred she felt for him. He was a disgusting man that she wanted nothing to do with; sadly, life just couldn't let her have her way. The last minute preparations had given her one good thing however, it meant that she didn't have to deal with Yaag at all. Even if she went all around the house, it'd be unlikely for them to come face to face. He had barely come to dinner too, since their marriage. It made the meal easier, for all there was to deal with was the delirious woman sitting opposite her.<p>

She'd spent the greater portion of time with Butterfly locked up in her room; for the most part they just talked. Sometimes Claire wondered if she only kept it up because both of them wanted to ignore the reality of their current situation. Even disregarding the forced marriage, before that they had lost almost all they held dear. It hadn't hit her until quite recently, but Butterfly, like her, had lost her home. She had lost her dear older sister to boot, and since then she lost her connection to her father who was sold off to another household. The teenager had told her that she had not lost as much as her, and technically that was true material wise, but when the only family she lost was a mother she hated, she found herself unable to agree no matter how many times it was repeated to her.

She reckoned she had gotten closer to Butterfly, since the girl wasn't afraid of getting too close to her as she had once been back before their homes had been destroyed. If that was not true, then the girl had gotten braver since they'd first met. They had originally met because Butterfly was made to keep an eye on her. She'd been somewhat annoyed with her for a time then, but now she hated just remembering that she had thought that way once. She supposed, she could call them friends, she knew that Butterfly had decided they were. They were clinging to memories by being together, perhaps they knew that, but couldn't care any less.

The little child Dajh clung to Butterfly wherever she went, unless his father managed to get a hold of him first. Sazh was incredibly protective of him she found, he made sure that his son was in his sights as much as possible, as if he was scared that the moment he lost sight of him the child would disappear into thin air. Claire guessed that might be somewhat bothersome for the child in question, but it was something she liked Sazh for. It meant that he adored Dajh, as a parent should for their precious child. She could only have dreamed to have such a relationship with her mother, though if it had been possible, she would have declined the offer, even Serah had disliked their mother, she merely put up with her and her extravagant ways. This was something her sister didn't admit too easily, being the polite and kind person she was.

At the end of the week, she was informed by Yaag's mother that they would be leaving the day after tomorrow. Any annoyance she felt at being told this so late was wiped away when the woman mentioned the house she was to live in was situated in North Bodhum. The relief of getting to leave this place and the god forsaken woman in front of her would have to wait, for her mind was stuck in remembrance of a memory. It'd been barely anything, and perhaps her mind was making it up, but she swore that was where Sazh said he intended to go. If that was so, that meant that Sazh had an opportunity to move north, by using her. She ran off before the person she was speaking with could finish, seeing as she cared none for what she said, and nothing else she could say would be any bit important.

Claire decided telling him was more important, rather than explaining her intention to those who could hinder it. However, before she could find the man, she ran into another, one who she hadn't intended to at all, at least, not for now. She stopped before she collided with Yaag; he looked a mite startled but calmed down immediately. She was more surprised to have chanced upon him then he was, for she'd barely seen a glimpse of him in the past week.

He frowned as she halted before him. "Surely your mother taught you not to run around the house like an ill-mannered child."

"Of course, but that never meant I listened." She grinned, it was easy to irritate him, and her dislike of him made it hard not to.

Again, he frowned. "Well stop it; I don't want a wife who constantly acts up."

She rolled her eyes, wondering why on earth he even bothered with her considering that was so.

"Why are you still hanging around? Do you have something to tell me?"

He wasn't who she had wanted to talk to at the moment, but she would've needed to talk with him eventually, so in spite of the truth she answered, "Yes, there's something I need to ask."

He looked at her with a look of apprehension, "And what would that be?"

"Your mother was speaking to me before," She explained, "And she said that you intend to move to North Bodhum." It was voiced half as a statement and a question.

Yaag nodded, "Yes, it is a flourishing town, it is a good choice. What about it? You don't seem like the type to ask about something so pointless, is there something about Bodhum that bothers you?" He wasn't concerned in the least, but wasn't quite annoyed by the questions, in fact, he was rather content. A rare moment of calmness.

"You remember that boy you almost shot?" He appeared irritated at the mere mention of him, "His father wants to move there because there is someone there he is very close to. I'm asking for you to let them come north with us. They don't have to live with us; I'm not asking that, I'm just asking you to let them come with us when we do leave, for it'll make everything far simpler for them."

"And why should I let them?" The tone of his voice made it apparent he didn't care what happened to the family, if he made it difficult for them to head north, so what?

"See it as repayment for trying to kill the son." Claire said, unsure if it would get anything in return.

Yaag scoffed, "And why should I repay them for that? They're no better than animals."

"You're no better than an animal." Claire muttered, if they had been alone, she was sure he would have hit her. Anger flared in his eyes. "Just do this, I promise they won't be a hassle for you."

He still seemed fairly unconvinced, fortunately, in a tone of voice that showed very clearly he was trying to suppress his annoyance, "Fine, but if either of its children make a sound, I'll kick them off."

She decided that was good enough, coming from a man like him, though it did upset her to hear him refer to Sazh by 'it'.

"Is that all?" His frustration was easy to hear.

"One more thing. I want to take Butterfly with us as well."

He looked more than a bit disgruntled by her saying that. "Butterfly?" He questioned, she wondered if it was just her name that provoked the question or if he was earnestly curious as to who that was.

"The slave girl that always follows me around. The one with the high voice."

He frowned, her commenting on her high voice sure wouldn't have helped things, but it had seemed like a more easily recognisable feature of the girl. "And why should I let her come too? What use is she?"

"Retaining a piece of the past I guess. I have nothing else left." She had to add in, hoping it'd help. "She'll do her best as a servant I'm sure as well. She's not useless." Claire made no mention to the fact the girl was at times, a complete klutz. It would doom her chances.

Yaag paused and thought, it didn't look like he liked the idea. Still, he answered, "As long as she says nothing until we are there, her voice is torture to listen to."

Again, she disliked the way he'd chosen to say it, but from Yaag it was better than nothing. She decided he had only allowed the girl to come as well in an attempt to make Claire easier to deal with. But whatever the reason was, after nodding to him she ran off to go tell those she needed to the news. Actually happy about something for the first time in a long time.

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><p>Claire awoke early the following morning. Originally she had wanted to go back to sleep and wait to be awakened later, but had found the world of sleep had been barred access, so she'd stayed awake and waited. She had sat on the sill of the window in her night gown watching the sun rise over the horizon, over the distant mountains, mountains she was sure she would never see again. She was sure that she would never revisit this town after today. Oerba being the place of her birth, the knowledge sent a peculiar sense of sadness through her. She had nothing left here, no family, no home, and yet she felt herself somewhat reluctant to leave it. Perhaps she was used to this being the world, new places were something yet unheard of for her. It was a possibility that somewhere deep inside the idea of leaving, never to return, scared her. Whether it was true or not, she being herself, would never admit to it.<p>

It wasn't soon after the sun rose a short way above the horizon line, that a maid came in and made her get dressed. She was given a handful of dresses with had once belonged to one of Yaag's sisters, which were packed. These were currently her only possessions, and when you thought about it, they weren't even hers. One of these dresses was a simple dark blue dress with frills at the collar and ends of the long sleeves; this was the one she was made to wear for today.

She was guided by the same maid out to the front of the house, where a carriage was waiting. She had to wait for quite a while, for despite how she had been made to hurry, it seemed Yaag had decided by himself that such a thing didn't apply to him as well. For most of this time, she was content, for Butterfly had come down to her and sat by her side. The girl was speaking in a hushed tone, which made Claire wonder if she'd been told her voice was obnoxious, as some people found it. She was too used to it for her to even have an opinion any more. It was simply normal to her. This suspicion was proved even further correct, when Yaag finally exited the house, and the teenager turned completely silent. She had been told the man had wanted to hear not a single word come out of her mouth, but Claire didn't think she'd take it so seriously. Even when Yaag paid little to no attention to the others around him, she didn't speak.

Frankly, Claire hadn't thought she would be successful in convincing him to let her take Butterfly with her north, so when they entered the carriage together, there was a dream like quality to it. She sat in the front, with Butterfly clinging to her side, whilst Yaag sat opposite them. She had been even more surprised that he had agreed with her to take Sazh and his children with them. To Yaag, there was no good reason to do this; he owed them nothing, even after pointing a gun to Dajh's head. Still, he had informed her that if he heard a single sound out of one of the kids, they and their father would be kicked off. She had warned them of this, and Sazh had taken it to heart, choosing to sit next to the driver, holding his baby daughter tightly, with his son in the middle of them. He hoped that if Vanille did cry, the barrier between them would turn it to silence. It also gave Dajh an opportunity to actually speak, which all were sure he would, being one so young, the sight of everything around him, and the fact of him being on a vehicle was sure to excite him.

During the ride, Claire didn't speak, and of course neither did Butterfly. Inside the carriage, it was suffocating, a heavy atmosphere pressed down on everyone. Even Yaag's very presence, she found, irritated her. He didn't have to talk, he didn't have to do anything, she didn't even have to look at him, and it put her in a bad mood. She was sure it was the same the other way around.

Certainly, the future would be hell for them both.

The carriage ride was long, and they had to stop to rest at night at houses that belonged to Yaag's business associates. By the time they reached their destination, Claire was sore as could be. She observed out the window as they came upon what was apparently their new house. Butterfly let out a silent gasp, but she herself didn't react at all. It was magnificently made, painted a snow white that looked almost as if it was glowing, lined with a soft baby blue for decoration, but most of all, it was enormous. But despite that, it wasn't any more than her old house, the one that burnt down. She pondered as the carriage came to a halt if Yaag was trying to impress her at all, it was a stupid attempt if you thought about it, he had seen her old house; how was this meant to beat it? Her father had been one of the richest men in the country, with the house to go with it. In comparison, Yaag was nothing, how could he dare challenge such a person?

She stepped out of the carriage without assistance, declining the driver's offer. In the surrounding area were trees with leaves coloured a deep green, she found it a strange sight personally, but adjusted to it quickly. Butterfly however, had her attention captured by it. She had grabbed the girl by the arm and had half dragged her with her along to the steps of the house. She was only a tad bit surprised when she found a man dressed in servant's attire standing by the door. Yaag had mentioned on the carriage a day back that he had already hired servants, but it had come close to skipping her mind completely, with the threat of being forgotten. She had cared little for it, and wasn't sure whether it was weird or not. She thought it strange herself, doing so so quickly, but had rare moment of remembering that she was the strange one to most people. Perhaps this was a normal way to go about things.

Later that day, she explored the house, with Butterfly keeping close at her heels. What little clothes she had were being put in a wardrobe upstairs, she needn't bother with it herself she had been told. They passed a handful of the servants, some ignored them and continued doing what they were doing, some paused and watched them as they walked by. She supposed they were trying to figure out what they were doing together, most may have thought that Butterfly had been ordered to stay by her side, a rare few may have had the thought occur to them that she was allowing the girl to stay by her side because she generally wanted her to, for she was a friend. A handful shared the same dark skin as Butterfly, but most had white skin. After passing a number of white skinned servants, both Claire and Butterfly had come to the agreement that Yaag had only wanted white skinned people working for him, and had allowed few exceptions. It fuelled Claire's dislike of him further. She didn't see him for the rest of the day. She guessed she was glad at that.

At some point, Butterfly had started up a conversation with a young maid, working close to the kitchen; Claire had left them to themselves, feeling like she was on the outside. She wandered back into the entrance room, finding Sazh talking with the servant that had been standing by the door when they'd arrived. He was an elderly man, what little was left of his hair had long since turned grey, he was winkled with liver spots and couldn't stand up straight. But his expression was a kind one.

After taking a step or two into the room, both men noticed her. The old man sent her a warm smile, showing his teeth, which were unexpectedly neat and white. Sazh sent her a small, but equally warm smile.

"I thought you would have left already. I know Yaag would flip out if he finds you are, it's just a feeling I have." She attempted a smile, but failed. She knew the man would do just that, and she hated it.

"I couldn't leave without thanking the one who got me here." He replied, smile broadening.

Claire blinked in surprise. "Thanking the one that got you here? You mean…me?" Receiving thanks were practically foreign to her; usually people just went off at her the moment the opportunity arrived.

"Of course, it would have taken me forever to get us here otherwise, why wouldn't I be thankful?" He chuckled at the girl's shock.

"I guess." She looked away, not over the sense of strangeness that had washed over her.

Sazh shook his head and sighed, stepping closer to her so he stood in front of her. She glanced up to look him in the eye. "I could never thank you enough; that you would even bother to help a stranger amazed me. I didn't do anything in return, and yet you still helped me. Thank you." He beamed happily.

She tried to return it, but only managed one half the size.

Right after, sadness flashed in his eye, she was concerned by it and was about to ask, but whatever she could say was interrupted by what he said next. "I know I should be glad that me and my family are alive and healthy, but, I can't help but feel bad about it when I look at you."

Though he said it, she wouldn't have even realised it if he had not said it, because of the cheery way he had been speaking and acting.

"I'm sorry, I feel like it's my fault that you are stuck with that man." He frowned, sorrow taking over his face. "If I hadn't run into you that night, he wouldn't have pointed that gun at Dajh; you wouldn't have been forced into saying yes like that."

"No! Don't think that!" She spoke before she could think. All she knew was she didn't want this man thinking that, she didn't want it to be his fault. It was Yaag's fault that she was stuck with him, not Sazh's.

"He would have found another way to make me say yes eventually, and it's likely he would have done it in the exactly the same way. It'd probably have been Butterfly if it hadn't been Dajh. Nothing was going to get me out of it, I was doomed the moment my mother gave him permission for my hand." She sounded like she was panicking, she guessed she was. She wasn't sure why she was thinking like she was, she just was, that was all there was to it. What scared her the most at the moment was not that Sazh wouldn't listen to her, that he wouldn't agree, but that she knew every word she said was true. She could say no all she wanted, but in the end the choice hadn't been hers.

His frown didn't disappear, but the look in his eyes changed. It was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, but at the same time, more sadness piled down on him.

"He really would do that wouldn't he?" He said under his breath, and to himself. But at their proximity, hearing him was easy. She wasn't sure how to respond, and she still wasn't sure what to do even after Sazh put a hand on her shoulder, adjusting his hold on his daughter so she didn't slip from his grip with his other arm, and advised her with a stern expression.

"If he ever hurts you and you fear for your life, don't even think about it; just leave. Come to Fang's, because I know I'll be there if that time ever comes. I don't care if no one else wants you there, I'll force them if I have to. There you will have a safe haven, and I will do everything in my power to make sure it is always there."

Nothing else had surprised her that day, but this did. Her eyes went wide in shock, and the ability to speak was lost to her. Why would someone she barely knew want to do so much? She was a horrible and irritating person at the worst of times, why didn't he care about that?

"Why?" The word left her lips, but even without him saying anything, she already knew the answer.

"I know it came at a price, but you saved my son's life. You have given me the chance to be reunited with someone who means so very much to me. You have given me and my family a proper opportunity at life, and for that we will be forever grateful. I could never repay you for what you've done, but I will try. And protecting you is a start."

For a while, she could only stare back blankly, too taken aback to say anything. So Sazh talked first. He took his arm away and wrapped it back around his daughter, before stepping away as well.

"I best be going, before that godforsaken man finds I'm still here. I know the address of the house that Fang lives in, but I still have to find it." He smiled as warmly as he had when she'd entered the room, as Dajh who'd been staring out the window ran over to his side.

"I'll see you later then, Lightning."

She grinned, "I forgot I got you calling me that."

"And I've been forgetting it isn't your real name." He grinned back.

"I'll see you then." She shrugged.

He nodded, "See you for now." He waved back to her as he exited through the grand front door.

She lingered for a moment longer before turning on her heel to leave, only for the old man who she'd forgotten was even there spoke up and stopped her.

"Lightning? Is that your name, I could have sworn Menna told me it was something more normal." She wasn't sure if he said it to himself or to her, considering he'd named someone without explaining who they were made her think he'd been speaking to himself, but it had been posed so much like a question that she couldn't change her mind that he'd been speaking to her.

So, just in case, she replied to him. "It's Claire actually."

"I like Lightning better." He decided.

"You'd be the first." He seemed like an interesting old man, she wondered what he'd been talking about to Sazh.

"Preposterous, it's a wonderful name." He chuckled as he shuffled out of the room, leaving her alone.

* * *

><p>Later in the day, Claire did more exploring, by herself since she was unable to locate Butterfly. During this time she wouldn't have minded running into the peculiar old man she had seen earlier, only she didn't see a single glimpse of him either, but the same went for Yaag, so that at least was a good thing. She'd never had to move houses before, so being here and knowing it was hers was a strange feeling. She decided to make herself familiar with the layout of the house, as a starting point to erase the feeling. She memorised where her room was, as well as where the kitchen and dining room were, she also mapped out where the hallways led to. As she did this she found a moderately sized room filled with rosy red couches, a glass table in the centre, and a fire place in the corner. It looked to her like a smaller version of a room her mother would show visitors to. Seeing as it was so close to the entrance hall, she deduced it was a room meant to accommodate guests in. If that was so, it looked to her like this room would be used very rarely if at all.<p>

Eventually, she began to tire from the constant walking around, and seeing as she couldn't think of anything better to do, she went outside, half to make herself get used to her new surroundings, half for some fresh air. The servants seemed like nice people themselves, but the further away from Yaag she was, the better. She was going to stay away from him as much as possible, if she had no reason to be near him, she would run off in the opposite direction. It seemed like a good plan to her.

It was late afternoon by this time, the sun casted an orange light on the sky and all below. She sat on a grass patch close to the house and watched the branches of the trees opposite blow in the wind. They were a ways away from town, she found out, when she took a proper look around the place. She could spot a number of large houses situated outside the main area, like hers, but none as big or as far away. Most were white, and of an extravagant make. It looked to her like North Bodhum was a popular place for rich people to move to. She knew most of the inhabitants of the houses she could make out were not miners who'd struck it rich. She remembered her father telling her years ago that many miners who found gold moved to places like Nautilus or Palumpolum, unless it was a large mine, they wouldn't quite have the money to move to Eden, but they would be close. It was the most expensive city you could hope to live in.

North Bodhum was a simple town, larger than your everyday village, but not as big or as bustling as a city. Serah had told her that two years back, the conversation had started on gold mines and they'd gotten a little off subject. Claire supposed that some people preferred to live here because they did not want to deal with the stress of a city life, but didn't want to live in a small town either. The north end of Bodhum was mostly filled with rich people, so the town had many restaurants and high end stores for the wealthy to find whatever they wanted. Closer to the middle of town, miners and the like from South Bodhum hanged about. Bars and whorehouses abounded down there apparently. She was sure whoever had originally said that to her hadn't known the truth themselves. She wondered if it had been a random everyday idiot, or her father who'd been telling her about the mines. They talked about them a lot when she was a child, the first time they'd talked about them was when she had asked why were some miners very poor, and why were some very rich. She hadn't known that not all struck the jackpot. She hadn't known it could take years to have any results. She hadn't understood why people went so far for something that may not even succeed. Back when she was really little, she hadn't known how big a gap her family had to people who were poor, she didn't know how little they really had. Her father was the only one who'd bothered to teach her.

The chirp of a bird snapped her back to reality. She eyed the singing creature, up on a branch near her head. She noticed that the sun was sinking closer to the horizon, not quite dipping in yet. She guessed it was best to head back in now. She hopped up and brushed the dirt and fallen leaves from her navy blue dress. She brushed another that had fallen down and had gotten tangled in her pink locks. She walked back to the front steps slowly, at a leisurely pace. She had no real reason to return but that it was late and she was reluctant to stay out in the dark. Butterfly might needlessly worry herself too if she was unable to find her, and she wasn't a fan of that happening.

She was halfway to the door when suddenly out of nowhere a person's head appeared in the corner of her sight. Shock hit her and she jumped back at the stranger's unexpected arrival. Claire eyed them with apprehension as she put distance between them. The woman had her knees bent and her head tilted to the side, the position she'd been in when she made her way into her vision. In the seconds that followed, the woman expression showed very little, only for her then to stand up straight and her face to split into a grin.

"Ah! I was right!" She laughed. She was dressed in a short sleeved grey dress edged in black with oddly placed yellow on the sleeves and bust. Her skin was tan, with a mess of raven hair and bright jade eyes. Claire's only thought was that the woman was of Pulsian descent, as she resembled very strongly most of the Pulsian natives she had seen growing up.

She was just about to question the woman and what she meant by her being right when the woman took off, running to a girl standing a few metres away behind them. She was dark skinned and fairly short. The shy way she had of holding herself made Claire think of Butterfly, only the resemblance ended there. The shape of their faces, their skin tone, they differed. She lowered her head in embarrassment as the Pulsian woman stopped in front of her.

"I told you I was right, and you told me I was crazy." She grinned joyfully.

"I never said crazy…I…just thought it was unlikely. No one would blame me." She bit her lip and pouted, turning her head to look away.

"Still doesn't change the fact I got it right." She laughed and ran back to Claire.

Claire sighed and turned away, hoping for the woman to leave her alone. Only unfortunately, she didn't.

"Hey, wait up!" She called, "What are you doing here?"

Claire debated whether to answer, or escape inside. In the end, she choice to answer, not fully sure why she did. She pointed to the house, "I live there."

The woman raised her eyebrows and whistled. "Wow, nice place. Since when?" She asked as she invaded the others personally space quite substantially.

She was given a look of exasperation. Not another question, Claire thought, she just wanted to go inside. She had no idea why she'd actually chosen to be nice for once, she wished she hadn't, because now she felt like she had to keep it up.

"Since today." She tried to make it come out in her tone that the conversation was now over, and she was sure she'd been successful, only it seemed the stranger decided to go right ahead and ignore it.

"Why? You married or something? That's why I'm here." She looked genuinely curious, but Claire wasn't exactly in the mood to keep answering, but sadly what she chose to say just gave their little conversation reason to grow longer.

"I'm sorry for whoever you're married to." The woman seemed annoying, very annoying, to say the least. Claire hoped that for the people she knew that she was just over excited for god knows what reason, and was merely creating a bad first impression.

"Well, that's mean. I don't see him that much anyway because of his work. Besides, he would have nothing to do with me if he found me that annoying. We're only married because he's my friend and we were trying to get away from our parents interfering with our lives." She was grinning as she said it, but immediately after her grin changed into an expression of alarm. "Oh crap, I just said that out loud didn't I…? Got told not to do that." She laughed awkwardly, scratching the nape of her neck. "Just pretend you didn't hear that."

"Too late." Claire said, more to mess with her then anything. She'd been too polite for her liking during the whole time.

The woman didn't take it negatively as she had expected her to, but instead laughed, "Should have expected that, you don't find that weird at all do you?"

Claire shrugged, and begun to walk off. "I don't know, is that weird or is it normal? I don't really care. It's probably worse that I didn't truly agree to the man I'm married to about getting married. "

The woman's face turned to show sadness for a moment, but it was gone a second later. She expected her to ask about it, but instead she asked, "Hey, you're the Farron's daughter aren't you? Did your house get attacked too?"

Claire raised an eyebrow but did not question. Many houses had been attacked by rogue soldiers, it happened both in Pulse and Cocoon, but Pulse took most of the blow. It didn't surprise her that this woman had lost her home as well. "Yes, it burnt down. My mother and a handful of the slaves died."

The stranger offered her sympathy, "I'm sorry to hear that. Both of my parents died, I'm not sure on the state of the slaves, no one bothered to mention them."

"Don't say sorry, she was a horrible person. I'm sorrier for the slaves than for her. At least they were decent people, even if they hated me just like she did." Her tone was stern, and dead serious.

The woman blinked in surprise, but calmed down relatively quickly. "It's the same with me then. Both my parents were positively dreadful human beings. They even locked up a perfectly sane child in a mental facility." There was a harsh undertone as she talked.

Claire chose not to question, so she could quicken the conversation up so it could meet its end. She waited five seconds, waiting for the Pulsian woman to continue talking; she didn't, so Claire decided she would take her leave now. She pivoted around and headed for the door once more, on the first step the woman called out happily,

"Hey, do you think I could see you again?"

She sounded incredibly happy about the idea, but Claire wasn't.

"No." She replied, and shut the door on her.

Through the wall, the last thing she made out the Pulsian woman saying was her yelling out: "Damn it, I forgot to introduce myself!"

She wondered why that bothered her so much, but decided to forget about it. She couldn't see a reason why she'd be stuck dealing with her any time in the future.

* * *

><p>When Claire walked back inside, she was hit immediately by the thought, what on earth was she meant to do now? She'd gone outside to give herself something to do, just because some time had passed didn't at all mean she would magically have something to do now. So she found herself wandering around again, to make it less boring, she tested herself to see if she could still remember where all the hallways led to. She was correct for the most part. This house offered more differences than her old home, which had, with the exclusion for a few, identical doors everywhere. The halls had near perfect symmetry to add to it. That wasn't to say that all the doors were different in this new house, but they weren't identical, some had different nobs, some were made of slightly lighter or darker wood. The halls looked different thanks to small tables littered with ornaments and the elegant paintings that dotted the walls. It was clear that Yaag had gone out of his way to show off that he was rich; she supposed that this was for any future visitors, for if it was for her, his idiocy would be proven. She guessed though, that this house was better looking inside then her old house, she'd never fancied much the high ceilings decorated by the most extravagant chandeliers you could hope to find. She had disliked the grandness of that house, it had gone way past her limit, she felt like it had screamed 'look at me, I'm rich!' She blamed this on her mother, and past owners of that mansion. Her father had been rich indeed, but he would rather spend it on others then on himself. He was too generous.<p>

At dinner time she was called to the dining room and made to eat. She had run in to Butterfly on the way there, and was able to calm the teen down over how she had been unable to find her before. She told her that she had been sitting outside, close to the house. The poor girl begun to worry again, so Claire had to tell her three times over that nothing bad had happened, and was made to tell her that all that had occurred during her short time out of the house was a conversation with an annoying woman who had barged into her personal space. Butterfly giggled at that, returning to normal, she claimed that was Young Miss's description of everyone.

At dinner, she sat as far away from Yaag as possible, it was uncomfortable to be alone with him, she was glad the dining table was needlessly large. It was a rectangle table, which could fit five on each side. She took one of the end chairs, as he sat near to the other end, on the left side. She caught an angry spark in his eye, possible from her obviously avoiding him. They ate in silence, and right after she finished she stood up and swiftly exited the room. She tried to act calm while doing it, but knew she had failed. No one would leave so fast if they were calm. She wondered if she had looked angry, and not merely unsettled at the idea of being near him.

She had originally wanted to speak with Butterfly, seeing as that was the better option out of them all, but after searching around for ten minutes without success, she went up to the master bedroom. She knew where it was, though this was her first time setting foot inside it. It was large and square, with the bed in the middle. It was made of a dark wood, with white and baby blue sheets. On the left was wardrobes and whatnot, on the right was a window, it poked out slightly and the sill was padded with cerulean cushions that seemed to be very soft. You could sit on it if you chose to. She was aware there was a set of nightgowns for her in the wardrobe, so she opened it up, found one and changed into it. For a time she sat on the sill, initially to test if it was actually possible, and then because it was softer than she'd originally thought and she didn't want to get up. She had decided to go to sleep after coming up here, but even though it was now dark out, she didn't feel like it anymore. She was tired and felt drained, despite doing very little, but wasn't in the mood to go to sleep.

She was concerned, and it put her off the idea of rest, there was no way she could get herself to sleep when her mind wouldn't calm down. She couldn't take being near Yaag for a day, that showed with how glad she was when she didn't run into him, and how quickly she had left during dinner. If she couldn't take a day, how was she going to put up with him for the rest of her life?

That, she didn't know. So, for now, she enjoyed what time she had to herself, which she believed she'd be enjoying more than ever nowadays, with having such a vile man for a husband. Sadly, her alone time didn't last for near as long as she would have liked.

Claire heard the door creak open and twisted her head to take a look. Yaag walked in in a disgruntled mood, undoing the buttons on his shirt. She turned back to continue gazing out the window, off in her own little world, she hoped he would just get into bed and ignore her. She preferred that.

"Get over here." He called, frustration abounding in his tone. She wondered if he'd gotten into an argument with a servant, for something must have happened to put him in this mood, and she could not have done it so easily.

"No." She shot back, seeing no reason in attempting to return him to a calmer disposition.

He grumbled and muttered something under his breath. "Get over here now!" He called again, louder this time.

"I see no reason to." She replied steadily, remaining on the sill, facing the glass.

He muttered a string of curses before screaming at her, "You are my wife, you will do what I tell you to do! Now get over here!"

In return, she sent him a look, which expressed very little, since she was in the mood to ignore him, before once again putting her attention on the blackness of the outside. The moment she did not show any sign of agreeing, he stormed over to her side of the room and yanked her up, so she stood by him. A flame of anger burned in his eye.

"Don't ignore me when I speak to you!" She hadn't expected to get him so riled up so quickly, she hadn't taken into consideration that his foul mood may have been worse than it'd appeared.

He threw her onto the bed and removed his shirt. "You are my wife, so you'll do whatever I tell you to do, and you will do it, regardless of what it is." His tone was as cold as ice, and sent a shiver through her. She knew what he wanted, but she'd rather claw her own throat then let him.

"Get away from me!" She said through gritted teeth.

"I see no reason too." He replied, mocking her by repeating what she'd told him earlier.

Seeing that words had no use, she turned to fighting him off. Her hands went to swipe at his face, hoping she could claw at the skin, only he caught her by the wrists and stopped the attack. He forced them up beside her head as he climbed on top of her.

"I really can't see what use fighting is, it isn't like it'd work." He smirked at her, maybe he found it funny that he'd found something she couldn't win at, because anything verbal he could rend useless.

Claire tried to jerk her arms out from under his grasp, but made little to no progress with the endeavour. She absolutely hated to admit to it, but physically, he was stronger. He grinned at her failure, and the desperation in her eyes. She wanted out, but he would not give that to her. As her poor attempts of freeing herself increased, he'd had had enough of enjoying her suffering, and decided to get on with things, to do what he came here to do.

He unbuckled his belt and threw it away, the buckle made a clicking sound as it hit the ground. She grimaced and looked away, not wanting to see anything. She heard a short chuckle slip from his lips.

"A funny woman aren't you? Too scared to look upon her own husband." He grabbed her face and tried to turn it to face him; she managed to put up enough of a fight that he gave up before he achieved success. He made a sound in annoyance, but did not try again, instead muttering, "It doesn't matter anyway, it won't stop me from getting what I want."

The urge to vomit rose in her as he talked; only it never managed to reach the level where she actually needed to.

He grabbed the hem of her nightgown, and begun to lift it up, only for her to freak out and grab his arm by the wrist and scream out, "No! Don't!" She wanted him to stop, that was all she could think, nothing else mattered but stopping him right here, right now.

Yaag growled at her and smacked her hands away. "How dare you!"

"How dare you!" She screamed back. "Get off of me!"

He whacked her across the face and yelled, "You cannot say that to me, this is my right!"

"I'll claw your eyes if you continue!" She snarled. She meant what she said, she was willing to do anything if it's stop him.

"Let's see you try." He laughed, because he knew she wouldn't get the chance, he'd overpower her like earlier.

Her stomach sank, because she knew that he was right.

When Yaag reached down to remove her nightgown again, her fear made her redo what she'd done before, much to his annoyance.

"No!" She barred his way with her hands. Again he whacked them away.

"Well, if you're going to make things difficult for me, might as well." He muttered in a voice he was straining to keep as calm as possible, only for him to fail horribly. As he finished the sentence, he grabbed her nightgown around the middle, and tore it across, creating a large rip in the fabric, revealing the bare skin of her torso.

Her face flushed and she tried to hide herself beneath her arms, only for him to pull them out of the way.

"Now there's no need for that is there?" Yaag smirked, causing her want to puke to rise. He lifted the remains of the gown up above her chest with one hand, holding down her arms with the other.

"Now, why were you so scared of hiding this? Many women would kill to have a body like yours." He asked, in a dark voice, running a hand down her length. She shivered and almost vomited.

There was a moment where nothing happened, and then he entered. Claire bit her lip as pain flared up inside her, she felt like she was being ripped apart on the inside. All her mind could think was that she was in agony, and she wanted it to stop. Only it kept on hurting, and didn't die down at all. With each stroke brought brand new pain, as time bore on his nails dug into the skin of her arms, as her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip, drawing blood. She tried to hold on, to keep it all inside; that she was in pain, that she felt like her mind was being shattered with each passing second. Eventually, it grew too difficult, and tears streamed down her face, whether it was for the pain, or the disgust she felt, she couldn't say. She wanted him to think it was for the pain, and not for her own weakness.

It wasn't as if he noticed them anyway, he found too much enjoyment in what he was doing to care for what she felt. She was sure only a few minutes had passed since he'd entered the room, but to her, it had felt like an eternity of hell. When it was over, he pulled out of her, and she scrambled to the other side of the bed, tugging her ruined nightgown back over her. Spent, he climbed onto the bed and went under the covers, falling fast asleep in a matter of minutes. Her face was painted with lingering tears and dried blood from her lip. She couldn't sleep here, not near him, not near anyone.

She rubbed her arms, feeling freezing cold. Drops of blood clung to her fingers as they brushed past the cuts he'd caused by digging his nails into her near the end. They, like her lip, stung. But it was nothing compared to the sickness in her stomach, and the pain she felt in her lower body. She'd heard a rumour that the first time hurt, but she'd never been so sure until now. She didn't expect it would be so bad, however, she felt like it would have hurt the same even if he'd done it before, being as rough as he had been. After suppressing the urge to empty her stomach of its contents, she got up to leave the room. Only after taking the first step, her legs buckled as pain spread, and she fell to the ground, hitting her head on the wardrobe and losing her battle of keeping her food down at the same time. She retched again and again in a corner of the room, until she was throwing up nothing but bile. She bit her lip again, wincing as her teeth landed on the cut.

She felt weak, physically and mentally. She was so sure that she was stronger than all the stupid woman she passed by daily, but now, she wasn't sure. She didn't know what she should be thinking. Everything was in scrambles. After sending a look back to the man on the bed, she forced herself up, stole the top sheet and wrapped it around herself, before leaving the room behind.

It was dark; no one was awake at this time. She couldn't make out a thing, so she felt the wall with her hands and made her way downstairs that way. She found her way to the entrance hall, and from there she wandered down a hallway, to one of the small rooms she had found earlier. It was the one she figured was meant for entertaining guests, the one she guessed would be used near to no times at all. She didn't expect anyone to find her here. She wrapped the sheet tighter around her and crawled into a ball on the largest couch, forcing herself to go to sleep. It was fitful, uncomfortable and filled with bad dreams, but she was able to rest for a few hours. She woke early morning, when the sun was yet to rise. She felt disorientated, and for a moment was confused as to where she was, before remembering that she was in a guest room, after leaving her own room to get far away from Yaag.

Claire stared into space for what in every possibility was a full ten minutes, before noticing the person standing in the corner of her sight. It was the old man she'd seen yesterday, the one who'd been talking to Sazh, the one who had actually told her that Lightning was a 'wonderful name'.

"Are you alright Lightning?" She wasn't sure it she found it amusing or strange that he referred to her by that name. Her thoughts were still all over the place. She wasn't even sure how to reply, so instead she said back,

"Shouldn't you be calling me Mrs Rosch or some crap like that?" She must have sounded angry, she thought she did anyway. But instead of reacting negatively, the old man smiled.

"Well, considering the state you're in, I don't think that's a good idea. I'd feel very impolite to call you by your first name, and though I suppose I could call you Young Miss like that girl who was following you around yesterday, I'd think it strange to call a married woman a name like that. It sounds like a child's name."

'And Lightning isn't strange at all?' She was going to ask that, but it never left her mind, instead she questioned,

"The state I'm in?" It was how he'd started his explanation. He gave her a sympathetic look, and shook his head.

"You don't need to explain anything, if it hurts to."

She felt dazed, so she only half understood him, but after looking at herself in the sliver of a mirror on top of the fireplace, she understood his words fully. The cuts on her arms were scabbing; her lip was cut, with dried blood covering her chin; a bruise was present on her cheek where he'd slapped her. Her pink locks were dishevelled, her skin was pale, and she had bags under her eyes from lack of sleep. She looked like she was about to drop dead.

She looked back over to the old man, his look of sympathy remaining. He attempted to smile, but the warmth she had seen in his other smiles was not present. He sat down on the end of the couch and stated speaking.

"Years ago, my daughter married a man, a horrible one at that. I was away at the time, and could do nothing to stop it. My wife just wanted her out of the house, because we couldn't keep paying for her living expenses. She was a ray of sunshine in my life when she was growing up, even when work became too much, and I was being crushed under the pressure, all I had to do was look at her face, and I'd be revitalised. My wife was not a bad person, but she didn't feel the same.

When I came back home, to find her married off to a man I'd never met before, I was quite upset, but that did not compare to when I saw her. She was a shell; her light had been sucked out of her. I was devastated, I felt sick. I warned her to leave her husband; that she should stay with me, for I'd keep her safe. She told me everything was fine, I think we both knew that was a lie. He was abusing her. But she kept that a secret to stop me from worrying too much. She didn't want to put any pressure on me, but all I really wanted was for her to tell me the truth. A few years went by, and she was gone. He beat her to death after bearing him a daughter for the third time in a row."

Claire watched the man in talk in silence, unsure how she should be responding to his story and also unsure why he was revealing it.

"I wanted to help her so badly, but, from the start, I was already too late. I've always regretted not helping her. So I told myself, that if I met another in that situation, I will do everything in my power to save them, and only then I can die happy."

"What are…?" Claire tried to ask, losing her voice halfway.

He twisted around, to look at her face to face. His expression was a serious one, one she hadn't expected the man to be capable of. "If things turn bad, really bad. Run, I promise I'll do everything in my power to help you."

She stared, shocked. Twice since she'd been here, she'd be promised that. Twice. It seemed too bizarre to think possible.

She lowered her head and look away. "It's obvious, how horrible he is, isn't it?"

"Why of course, that man is the devil himself."

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><p><strong>My beta's comments on this was, the sentences at the start dragged on too much (which I fixed up somewhat) and I LOVE THAT OLD MAN!<strong>

**And yes she wrote it in capitals. Gotta say, I like him too. He was no one when he was standing by the door, but by the end of the chapter, he was fully formed awesomeness. True fact.**

**Hope you enjoyed, feel free to review, I love receiving them, thanks to all who have in the past, it makes me so happy that you care enough about the story to drop a little review.**

**Jya ne,**

**~Serah Villiers Valentine**


	16. A day for surprises

**(9,284 words) Merry Christmas! **

**It has been thirteen months and nine days since I last updated, needless to say, I am soo soo sorry. I never meant for the gap to get so long. Long story short school's been a lot heavier with assignments than ever. I'd like to say I'll try to get the next one out faster, but honestly, I don't even know. It'll be my last year, so everything school wise will be really important, so it'll have to come before fanfiction again. I'm sorry for the long wait, I really am. Only a little of it was because of my own procrastinating, mostly it was an assignment overload. Like ten at a time, that much of an overload. **

**I hope I've made this an enjoyable chapter, I tried to include as much as I could because of the lack of updates. This is my Christmas present to you all, I withheld updating for a few days just so I could upload it today. I hope you like. **

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><p><span>Dance against the wind<span>

Chapter 16: A day for surprises

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><p>Fang nibbled on the edge of a biscuit she'd picked up the moment a plate full of them was set on the table by a chubby old maid, whose face scrunched up at the hasty motion. The woman quickly left the room behind her to go onto complete other tasks. The Pulsian woman ignored the look she'd been given, since she didn't care much if she was thought of as unlady-like for pouncing on the food so fast.<p>

"Don't mind her, she did it to me the first time she served us. Couldn't understand why I'd be on the food before my husband, she reckoned it made me look feral apparently. I heard from the other servants." Nora's face brightened up with a small smile.

Out of curiosity, Fang had decided to act on her ideas of who she'd rather become friends with. She knew Nora had an age difference over her by quite a bit, but in their short encounter a few days before, her interest in the woman had been sparked, so both were fine to overlook the age gap. It hadn't been much of a meeting to be sure, as the older woman had merely been tagging along with another two of own age, who'd come off to the younger woman as pompous and close minded. Not a couple she could associate herself with comfortably. Nora's little comments at the end of the conversation had been enough to prove that she was not like them. Already in the few minutes since Fang had arrived at her house, she was glad she'd made the decision to visit.

She'd with Jane's help had gotten Nora's address, and had pounced on the opportunity to see her. She'd been going crazy, being cooped up in her house with its endless corridors and silence. Being in a new setting did wonders for her almost instantly; she doubted walking aimlessly around with Jane would keep her calm for much longer.

It was a sizeable house, old but quaint. They were situated in a room specifically set up to accommodate quests, and though small was done up nicely. With a table off to the right where they sat, surrounded by five chairs. Against the wall was a small fireplace which gave the room a homely feel, and to their right a grand window, of which its curtains blew softly in the wind, framing their table in baby blue.

Nora was an interesting woman she found. She was born in in Pulse like her, but far away from Oerba. Her family like most people she'd known there were of Cocoonian heritage, from her grandmother on her father's side. She'd met her husband Bartholomew while he was on a trip with his father as a teenager. They'd grown close very quickly, and eventually she'd moved to Oerba with him where they'd gotten married and had since had a son. They had wanted more children, but it had simply never happened. She didn't seem like an older woman, not only from her looks, since the only thing that indicated her age was the look of her skin, her appearance was still very youthful, but from her personality as well. She didn't flaunt to Fang her status, or act superior to her because she was basically as child to her. She treated her equally and fairly, even when the Pulsian had brought her maid along even in this situation. She'd claimed that she didn't want to leave the house without her, since she was yet to do so, but though Nora saw through that excuse, she didn't question her or value her as an oddity. She simply accepted their friendship. She had a wonderful sense of humour and took things good naturedly. And though she was kind Fang could sense an amazing strength from her that radiated out of her.

"I don't see the problem myself." Fang scoffed. "I haven't eaten today, I'm hungry obviously." Referring back to the maid's reaction.

Nora smiled in response. "True, but she's simply that kind of woman. It's rare to meet people with different views, she expects us to act gently and polite. Eating a normal human amount isn't gentle in her mind. Of course at my age, I've met plenty like her, from all walks of life, and they're still the same. It's peculiar in a way."

The younger woman again laughed. "At your age? You make it sound like you're fifty."

Laughing back Nora replied. "Well it's true I'm a lot closer to it then you are." She sighed before switching topics. "It's a trivial matter anyhow, you'll encounter it much more I'm sure. I was meaning to ask earlier, but the food became a bit of a distraction. Why did you and your husband choose to come up here? Though it's only been a month."

"Hmm, I think it was easier for Cid to move here work wise. But it's nice that Jane and Ben can be treated more fairly, ah, that's Jane's older brother. He's also working for us. It bothers me that they were being used as slaves, even though I'd like to offer them more, the fact that they're simply servants now is a nice thought."

"A reasonable answer. Are you happy? It always concerns me when I see young woman put into situations unfavourable or horrible for them because their opinion is not considered."

Putting down the biscuit she'd been eating, Fang questioned, "Happy, how so?"

"With your life, with your relationship. Cid seems like a nice man, but do you love him? I'm appalled by how many girls I've seen in a relationship they'd do anything to get out of. And I've seen it out of Pulsian women so many times. It's so rare for their family to be rich nowadays that it's common for them to try to marry above them, with results that aren't always what they hoped for."

Fang paused, considering how to word her answer. She trusted that Nora was a nice woman, but being a new acquaintance, she was unsure how far that stretched. She decided immediately that she wouldn't mentioned that her husband and servant were in a relationship, and that it was the male servant at that. She thought it smart as well, not to mention which way her interests in people lied, as she saw little difference in her and Cid's situation, though she had made no actions.

"I guess I might as well admit to it. I won't say a word to others, but I trust you'll keep it between us; I'm unsure how most people would react. I don't love him at all, but it's not that I was forced into a relationship unwillingly. We've been friends since before we can really remember, and both come from families who would have forced us into an unwanted situation, even with him being a guy. We made the decision to marry so that our parents wouldn't force us to be with someone we could never love. To me he's only a friend, and I'm sure it won't ever change from that. I guess I do love him in an odd way, but not in the way a wife loves her husband. He's like family sure, but I have no attraction or romantic feelings for him. And is it certainly the same for how he feels about me."

Not knowing the full truth, which Fang avoided speaking of; predictably Nora's face appeared upset.

"So you gave up hoping you'll experience love? Just to avoid having your lives controlled by your parents? You didn't consider trying to hold out longer, to hope you'll find the one? You just gave up and ran off with a friend instead?"

Returning to eating the biscuit she'd been nibbling on before, as a distraction of sorts so the conversation would seem less serious, Fang finished it before admitting.

"I doubt I could find them before my parents interfered. Everyone had merely been a pretty face to me, with me never able to touch them, or for them to realise how I feel." She smiled grimly, knowing her meaning would be misinterpreted. She meant something that she had not mentioned to the older woman. She'd never love a man, and no one would let her love another woman. She could look, and never touch, because she'd be too afraid to admit to that.

"But, you're parents…they're gone now aren't they?" Nora questioned in a quiet, inquisitive, but saddened tone.

Fang nodded. She had a feeling that Nora, being a wife of a former plantation owner herself, might have heard word of what had happened back in Oerba. "Yeah, I was told both of them were killed when the house was attacked. Truthfully, I'm not sure how I feel about it. They were my parents sure, but as people they were horrible. They locked away my own sister for showing too much kindness to one of the slaves, that didn't mean she was crazy, she was kind. That was just it. But they didn't like it, so they got her out of the way."

Nora's expression changed from sad to shocked as she finished. "Your sister? I would have never expected that. I vaguely remember hearing things of another family whose daughter had died. Now that I think about it I'm rather sure it was the Oerba's. Was that simply a lie so they didn't have to admit to that?"

"They spread it to everyone. Perhaps they found it easier to accept, the strange people they were. With them gone, I finally have the chance to get her out. I have all the papers; I merely need to go there now, when the moment comes that I can, I'll pounce on it. It isn't in a good area, so Cid's reluctant to let me travel alone. When I get to see her again, he'll let us be by ourselves, but he wants to be there to make sure nothing bad happens. It'll make her release easier as well having my husband around."

Giving her a small smile Nora nodded in understanding. "He's still a good husband then. Even if you don't have a normal relationship. It's kind of him. I must admit, I could never imagine being in that situation myself. I'm an only child, and so is my husband. I wouldn't want to imagine what it'd be like having a sibling wrongly locked away, far away from you. I hope she'll be alright."

"That's what I'm hoping."

Their conversation was disrupted when the door to the room slowly creaked open. Nora was the first to look and notice the child peeking through, very curiously. Fang didn't think much of him since it seemed that the moment he noticed there was company he seemed intent on leaving, though she did take notice of his similarities to Nora. She assumed he must be the son she's mentioned the first time they'd met.

However before he shut the door behind him Nora lifted up the plate of biscuits from the table and held them out as she called across the room. "Oh, Hope. Magdalene made those biscuits again. She hasn't made them in a while, you like them don't you? You want some?"

It initially seemed like he would decline the offer and leave, but Fang was proved wrong when he took a step into the room, then walked right up to the table, and took three of the biscuits from the plate his mother held out.

Fang inspected the boy. That he was Nora's son was undeniable. The platinum hair and green eyes were exactly alike. He looked like he was ten, but going off that Nora wasn't anything special height wise, she could reason with him being a year or so older. He seemed uncomfortable with her looking at him, but she just reckoned that he wasn't the most trustworthy of strangers like a lot of the kids she knew, either that or he just wasn't a fan of people. Given his age she took it to be the first option.

"Shouldn't you be with your teacher at the moment Hope?" Nora questioned, trying to sound stern.

He reacted very calmly to her. "He never turned up, I've been waiting two hours. I don't think he's coming today."

"That's a shame." Nora said to herself more than anyone as she rested her cheek on her hand. "He makes us pay so much and then doesn't come. He could have at least sent someone to inform us he wasn't able to make it." She was annoyed clearly, but was poorly trying to pass it off as concern.

She sighed outwardly. "I suppose it must make today very boring for you. Why don't you go find Mary's children and play? That'll pass the time." She offered the idea.

He made a face much like a scowl, but didn't complain and walked off instead of saying more.

When he closed the door Fang asked, "Mary?"

"One of the women I was with when we ran into each other the other day. Her son ran into you if I recall correctly."

Fang let out a short laugh. "Oh, yeah, that Mary. God she made so little an impression, I've already forgotten her name."

"And her children are just as bad as she is. It's why I didn't comment on that scowl. Frankly I'd be horrified if all I had to do all day was go to her house. He's a good kid, I really feel sorry for it."

"Very quiet." Fang commented.

"He can be. Not one for socialising with anyone. It's just how he is though." Nora explained. "He hates his father too, and I've no idea why. I don't even think he knows that I know, but I must admit it's painfully obvious."

"What's wrong with his father?"

"That's exactly that, I generally don't know. Bart's a very nice man; I don't know what could possibly be upsetting Hope about him."

"Another question, why Hope?" The curiosity in the Pulsian woman's tone was pouring over the top.

Nora paused for a second with a quizzical expression planted on her features, before they split into a smile and she spat out confused. "What?"

"It was really bothering me, isn't that meant to be a girl's name? He's a boy isn't he?

Again she laughed, but quickly caught herself and calmed down. "Why not Hope? I don't see the point in separating names like that. For some things, yes I understand, but for a name like Hope, why force a gender on it? Hope is a wonderful thing, a ray of sunshine, a rainbow of happiness, and joy in a dark place. Me and Bart when though a number of troubles in trying to have a child, I'm amazed we even had one, and I'm forever glad I was granted that miracle. It just seemed like an appropriate name for us to call our child after all that. Because now, whenever things seem dark, I know I'll always have hope." She smiled a sweet, motherly smile.

Fang felt her complain slip away. It was still there, but after Nora's reasoning, it wasn't enough to bother speaking it.

The two women conversed jovially for the remainder of the morning, making it a well needed release for Fang who was always in better spirits when she had someone to talk to. She and Jane left shortly before noon, bidding their goodbyes to Nora with the intention of visiting again soon. She was the first enjoyable female friend Fang could remember having, it she wanted to have an interesting conversation, she'd always relied on her male friends like Cid or Rygdea. This was a connection she was glad she'd made.

Afterwards when she and Jane had left, Jane offered the idea to go shopping. They were running low on food and needed to stock up. Fang certainly had a habit of using any excuse to get out of the house, so she knew she wouldn't decline. She just hoped the endeavour wouldn't end with Fang having a major distraction.

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><p>Fang stood by the door of the store as Jane did the buying by herself. She was getting odd enough looks just by staying so close to her maid, walking into the store would her would just make things worse. They expected eventually they would throw someone into an uproar about it eventually. It was just a matter of waiting.<p>

A little before Jane was finished a blonde woman strode past Fang out the entrance of the store, the whole while receiving less than nice looks from those around her. Though initially questioning of this, on second look it clicked that going off her well-worn clothes that were a mite revealing at that, that she was bound to be from the bad side of town. The people surrounding her must have just picked up on that straightaway unlike her. She was about to look away, but the young girl noticed her curious looks before she managed. Her face split into a small grin.

"Are you that Pulsian girl who called madam Dẻteste lazy?"

Raising an eyebrow, Fang recalled calling a woman standing in front of a saloon that a while back. She didn't see what the issue was, it wasn't really anything to talk about.

"And? Is that a big deal now? Or is she just a touchy woman?"

"Neither. But it's stupid. If you knew what she's gone through you wouldn't be saying that. Asking someone for help isn't lazy, one would think you of all people would understand that," She sneered, "Seeing as you're an ignorant rich girl, it's probably the only thing you know how to do. "

"Ignorant rich girl?" Fang questioned as the blonde woman, clearly done with the topic had begun to walk off. Fang wasn't in the mood to let that slide however. Being compared to one of the lazy imbeciles she had only recently ridded herself of dealing daily by moving up here, was never something she enjoyed. At least she understood that other people were actually human, if she was ignorant, she didn't want to know what they were.

"Hey Look here!" She called as she went after the woman, she reckoned she'd gathered a few looks, but in her determination to somehow or another prove that comment wrong, she was blind to them. "I'm not some stupid ignorant rich girl; those girls are just imbeciles who need a prince in shining armour just to live."

The blonde woman peaked behind her to definitely make sure she was being followed. It seemed to amuse her as her smile implied. "And? Your husband isn't? You are married I assume?"

"Doesn't matter, Last time I checked Cid wasn't a knight."

"I thought you said prince?" They giggled as she led Fang along back the way they both would have needed to originally taken to get to the store.

"Same thing, it's all stupid shining idiotic love crap isn't it? I'm not that stupid to believe in it anyway. I don't care for it. I'm fine by myself, I can look after myself." Fang asserted her belief.

The response was a snort before a mocking laugh. "Some rich girl looking after herself? I'd like to see that, your kind need someone else just to wipe your butt."

As they dodged a carriage driving by Fang lost some ground as the other had dodged it spritelier, so she picked up her skirts and ran back to her. "My kind? Don't got no bloody kind. I'm just myself aren't I? And I can wipe my own ass thank you very much. I never said looking after myself would be easy." She explained, venomously. "It'd be hard as hell, but I'd pick things up eventually wouldn't I? That's what people do, learn. Now that's something that those ignorant little rich girls don't know how to do."

The blonde woman let out a little laugh. "Nice language there, don't usually hear that out of the rich folk round here. I wonder if it's just a Pulsian thing?"

Scowling Fang snapped back. "Now don't go on being racist, you'll make yourself the ignorant one here. All the other Pulsian's I know are just like the rest, hoity-toity little imbeciles who could do with a new brain theirs is so useless to them. My language is my thing, and I like it very much."

"Oi Jaz, don't do that. You'll just make yourself more enemies, she's not giving up you know?" A voice called out from somewhere in front of them.

Both woman looked in its general direction to find a black haired woman leaning against a wooden pole of a building, shortly in front of them.

"Well she really did start that I must say, Dẻteste." The blonde woman, Jaz scoffed and walked right past Dẻteste, inside the saloon behind her.

Left alone, Dẻteste smiled at the shadow of the girl and sighed. She turned back to Fang, who was still worked up over what she had found as an idiotic conversation. She didn't change her expression at all even when she was giving a cheeky little grin from the woman to her front.

"She's like that. I guess it's a hassle for you." She shrugged her shoulders. "Usually apprehensive of new people, and it usually ruins their view of her. She's too careful that's all, it really doesn't work in her favour."

"Apparently I'm an ignorant rich girl now. I don't think money has any connection to my personality or intelligence. Not very good at understanding that she was." She frowned. She hadn't won the argument in the end, she'd just been left behind instead. It was quite the annoyance.

"You get people like that. Sometimes when people live difficult lives, they become more and more careful, and sometimes you wound up like Jaz. Completely cutting yourself off from them by arguing with them just to keep the distance, with little consideration to who they are or what it will do for you." She stepped away from the pole and stopped just before Fang. "She gets a lot worse if ya wanna know."

"Oh that sounds like joy." The Pulsian sarcastically joked.

"Oh absolutely." Dẻteste agreed. The woman let out a short chuckle before going on and leaving the little fiasco behind her. "So, are you really different? Or was that just argument talk?"

"Odd question." Fang raised an eyebrow, the woman did seem curious.

"I was just wondering you know." Dẻteste laughed as she hopped back on the wooden floor boards out the front of her saloon.

"Well," Fang pondered, "I'm talking to you ain't I?" She grinned, and got one back in return. It was certainly true, or at least it sounded right to her, that someone else of her status wouldn't talk to a woman like Dẻteste. Even with knowing little about her, this was certain.

Dẻteste had the same thought pattern she was sure, because her expression agreed with Fang's statement. "Fair enough, I have to say. You lot usually gossip about silly stuff like talking to lower status people, don't you? You're reluctant to dare the idea is the image I get. "She sighed at the thought. "Don't get it myself; I'm honestly glad to find a similarly minded person."

Fang chuckled at the honest relief the woman had on her face. She didn't see her comment as much; it made her wonder then, the exact treatment Dẻteste had gotten around here.

"Fang!?" A voice called from somewhere in the crowd behind them. Both raven haired women looked to see who had spoken, to find Jane rushing over to the conversing duo. As she reached them she collapsed in a huff. "Fang, why did you wander off? You scared me, you truly did. I had no idea where you went. Why on earth did you do that?"

She stopped herself from going on upon noticing Dẻteste standing close by, her attention directed to both her and Fang. She understood immediately what had gone on before she'd disrupted it. She sent Fang an all-knowing look, before switching her gaze to Dẻteste, who gave her a happy little wave, smiling, to poke fun at the situation.

"Oh god you really meant it didn't you?" Jane sighed heavily.

"Meant what?" Dẻteste couldn't help but pry, leaning forward a little to listen in.

Jane made a face so Fang explained in her place. "I was telling her before that it might be more interesting talking to you than attempt the idea with other woman of my status, crazy old hags they are. She freaked out a bit, scared of how others would react and all."

The other woman raised an eyebrow, happy in an odd way that the view point was shared. Both had an interest sparked in each other. "I like your thinking there." She laughed. "But I've work to do, wasted enough time talking to you." She smiled and saluted as a goodbye, "I'll see you two later." She smirked before entering the building and leaving them behind.

Jane gave Fang a concerned look, only receiving a quick smile in response as the Pulsian begun to walk off. She couldn't help but fear the worse.

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><p>A few days passed until like many times before, the duo went on a walk together. They didn't plan a long one, just a short one to allow Fang out of the house, to stop her from exploding like she now claimed was what happened if she kept herself locked up for too long. She was glad she'd made the connection with Nora, who she was sure would certainly stop boredom from completely overtaking her, and she was starting, rather, poorly attempting the same with Dẻteste. She knew it might take some time to manage anything proper with the woman, and with Nora's case she wasn't sure how many opportunities she could have to bother the older woman. So needless to say, she still had her bouts of boredom.<p>

Jane had offered they keep up their normal schedule, knowing the other woman tired irrationally quickly of being locked up inside. She wondered how on earth she'd managed back home. But after thinking on the matter for a time, it occurred to her she'd also had a number of people to speak with back home. Perhaps that was how she'd wiled away her time without suffering through it in endless boredom.

They wandered for a while in silence, walking along the one path on the outskirts of town, soon enough their so called short walk became much more than that. The sun had already past the middle of the sky, and neither knew how long it'd been since then. Fang was transfixed with the green scenery, but Jane didn't see the problem with starting up a conversation.

"So how is it going with getting Vanille out of that place?" She inquired quietly, worried of provoking too much out of a reaction out of the older woman.

However, unlike her expectations she responded calmly. "Cid's doing some stuff on it at the moment, but it shouldn't be long now. Work's getting in the way a bit to secure the final details. But it shouldn't put her release off by too much."

Jane raised an eyebrow, "It doesn't bother you it's not happening right away."

Fang actually smiled in response, "Honestly, I think I'm just happy she's getting out. It wouldn't be hasty of me to say it'd be possible for us to make the trip to Nautilus in a week. I'm finally going to be able to see her again, isn't that good enough? That alone makes me happy, and I couldn't be happier in fact, I'm going to see my little sister again."

Jane nodded and smiled back, "I suppose. I barely remember her to be honest, I didn't work much around the either of you after all. I don't reckon you knew my face either. I just remember that she looked like Madam Oerba a lot. But, going from what Sazh said about the two of you, she's a lot nicer."

"Well of course, Vanille's a sweet little angel, even sweeter than her name." Fang bragged.

"Sweeter than her name?" Jane giggled at the odd wording.

"Yeah, it means Vanilla. And she's sweeter than that." She explained in a matter of fact tone.

"What a silly thing to say." Jane said as she sighed. In the humour of the situation, as Jane continued walking she failed to notice that Fang had stopped in her tracks, until it clicked that she hadn't gotten a reply.

Curiously the teenage girl twisted around to see what was wrong, to notice that Fang had simply just stopped, staring intently ahead of her. Unable to tell why, Jane returned her gaze to in front of the pair, down the tree lined path, down to the white and blue house down the hill. She strained her eyes to notice a woman standing by its front, doing nothing from the looks of things, just aimlessly spending her time.

Fang suddenly burst past her, "It's her." She declared.

"Her?" The smaller girl asked as she sped up to catch up to the Pulsian, "What do you mean 'her'?"

"Like I'm just going to see those colourations from just anyone, don't they sound familiar to you in any way, shape or form?"

Jane pursed her lips and looked at the woman in question, standing without purpose by the house's wooden front door. By 'Colourations' there was little to be interpreted, it was clear what Fang had meant by that. She was a pale woman with soft light blue eyes, but that mattered little, they couldn't be what Fang had meant. It was her hair, not bright, but a pretty faded shade, that was undeniably pink.

"It's the Farron's daughter, I swear."

"Really Fang? How can you be so sure, what on earth are the chances. It's so unlikely. If they've got hair like that that shouldn't it be possible for there to be others just like it?"

"Don't care, I know it's her, it's got to be. I'll prove it." Fang decided, Jane reluctant to go against her decision. She was oddly determined to prove to herself that she knew the woman.

Before she could say another word to her, Fang was racing down the hill, leaving Jane to stand there awkwardly, inwardly sighing at the sudden and strange excitement ignited her in companion. She got all the way down the hill and in fact in front of the woman, who was easily out of it, before she was noticed.

Shock hit the woman and she jumped back at the stranger's unexpected arrival. She eyed Fang with apprehension and put some distance between them quickly. Fang was standing with her knees bent and her head tilted to the side, the position she'd been in when she made her way into her vision. Initially her countenance expressed little, only for her then to stand up straight and her face to split into a grin.

"Ah! I was right!" She laughed. Wholly happy she wasn't insane. It was actually her. It was the strangest form of excitement running through her, she wasn't even sure how to describe it, but it was why she wanted so badly to know that this really was the Farron's daughter.

She was given a questioning look in response to her random appearance, but before answering any questions that could come, she took off, running to Jane who stood a few metres away behind them. She lowered her head in embarrassment as the Pulsian woman stopped in front of her.

"I told you I was right, and you told me I was crazy." She grinned joyfully.

"I never said crazy…I…just thought it was unlikely. No one would blame me." Jane bit her lip and pouted, turning her head to look away.

"Still doesn't change the fact I got it right." Fang laughed and ran back to the pink haired woman, who sighed and turned away, hoping to be left her alone. Only unfortunately, Fang had no intention to allow her that.

"Hey, wait up!" She called, "What are you doing here?"

The answer was not instant, as she debated to answer or not it seemed. Finally she pointed to the house, "I live there."

Fang raised her eyebrows and whistled. "Wow, nice place. Since when?" She asked as she invaded the other's personal space quite substantially.

She was given a look of exasperation. She honestly thought that the woman just wanted to go inside, but she wanted to talk, and had no intention of allowing her that, rude or no.

"Since today." She tried to make it came out in her tone that the conversation was now over, and she was sure she'd been successful, only Fang decided to go right ahead and ignore it.

"Why? You married or something? That's why I'm here." She looked genuinely curious, but it looked to be that only Fang wanted this conversation to go on, only unfortunately what she chose to say just gave their little conversation reason to grow longer.

"I'm sorry for whoever you're married to." She found Fang annoying, very annoying, to say the least. She hoped that for the people she knew that she was just over excited for god knows what reason, and was merely creating a bad first impression.

"Well, that's mean. I don't see him that much anyway because of his work. Besides, he would have nothing to do with me if he found me that annoying. We're only married because he's my friend and we were trying to get away from our parents interfering with our lives." She was grinning as she said it, but immediately after her grin changed into an expression of alarm as she caught up to herself on how strange a thing that was to say. "Oh crap, I just said that out loud didn't I…? Got told not to do that." She laughed awkwardly, scratching the nape of her neck. "Just pretend you didn't hear that."

"Too late." Was the reply, more to mess with her then anything. She'd been too polite for her liking during the whole time.

The Pulsian didn't take it negatively as she had expected her to, but instead laughed, "Should have expected that, you don't find that weird at all do you?"

The other shrugged, and begun to walk off. "I don't know, is that weird or is it normal? I don't really care. It's probably worse that I didn't truly agree to the man I'm married to about getting married. "

Fang's face turned to show sadness for a moment, but it was gone a second later. The other expected to be questioned about it, but instead was asked, "Hey, you're the Farron's daughter aren't you? Did your house get attacked too?"

The pink haired woman raised an eyebrow but did not question. Many houses had been attacked by rogue soldiers, it happened both in Pulse and Cocoon, but Pulse took most of the blow. It wouldn't be a surprise her that the Farron's had lost their home as well Fang thought.

"Yes, it burnt down. My mother and a handful of the slaves died."

Saddened, she offered her sympathy, "I'm sorry to hear that. Both of my parents died, I'm not sure on the state of the slaves, no one bothered to mention them."

"Don't say sorry, she was a horrible person. I'm sorrier for the slaves than for her. At least they were decent people, even if they hated me just like she did." Her tone was stern, and dead serious.

The raven haired woman blinked in surprise, but calmed down relatively quickly. "It's the same with me then. Both my parents were positively dreadful human beings. They even locked up a perfectly sane child in a mental facility." There was a harsh undertone as she talked.

The pink haired woman chose not to question what she was talking about, so she could quicken the conversation up so it could meet its end. She waited five seconds, waiting for the Pulsian woman to continue talking; she didn't, so she decided to take her leave now. She pivoted around and headed for the door once more, on the first step Fang called out happily,

"Hey, do you think I could see you again?" She sounded incredibly happy about the idea, but the feeling wasn't mutual.

"No." She replied, and shut the door on her.

Fang sighed, alone now besides Jane. It was such a poor attempt at a conversation, and she was really hoping she could know the woman. She'd wanted to speak with the her since the first glance she'd gotten of her, she was so full of energy at the opportunity. And how that it had ended like that, she was left with a feeling of emptiness. She was about to start walking away when it occurred to her, "Damn it, I forgot to introduce myself!"

She hoped to gain the opportunity to speak again, and next, time, she hoped the results would be much better. But that was for the future to know, and for her to find out.

* * *

><p>As the day turned darker Fang and Jane set back for home. They followed a similar path to the one that had led them, with slight differences in order to return home faster. Fang walked at a faster pace to Jane who had to keep running up to her every couple of metres when she begun to fall behind. In spite of the failed conversation, she was left in a good mood. Perhaps it was one of the reasons she didn't notice her speedy pace that Jane couldn't match.<p>

When they reached the house she'd slown down a little, which made the younger girl take the opportunity to catch up, and they walked up the steps of the house together. Just as Fang twisted open the doorknob to the front door, she was flung forward when the door was opened from inside. She made a gasping sound but just before she fell a hand caught her and fixed her up. A sigh sounded as she rebalanced herself, knowing instantly who it was, she looked up to see Cid standing on the other side of the doorway.

"Ah, Cid. Scared me there. Didn't expect you to be there." She laughed shakily. She'd gone into her own little world as she'd reflected on hopeful attempts on how to get the Farron's daughter to properly speak with her, Cid's appearance had interrupted that, and had thus come as a shock. "Surprised me it did."

"Surprise eh? Plenty of more of that today." He seemed to muse.

Curious, Fang raised an eyebrow. She knew for a fact he hadn't anything in particular to do today, he'd informed her when she'd been eating breakfast. Going from that, she couldn't form a reason for him to be surprised by anything other than the coincidence of opening the door at the same time as her. But that counted as being the same surprise Fang had, so therefore his sentence wouldn't make sense.

"What are you going on about?" She spat out with a chuckle, curiosity getting the best of her.

"I suppose it's better for you to see it yourself." He explained, and stepped to the side, letting both woman in. Fang eyed him oddly, Jane kept behind, nervous and curious equal measure. The looks Fang sent Cid continued as he led her across the room and to the door of the dinning room. She noticed immediately that the room beyond was not empty. There were voices, and judging from the sound of things, it had to be more than one. She tried to sneak past Cid as he turned the knob but she only got a view of those inside after the door was fully opened, and he'd given her the opportunity to look inside.

Shock hit her fast, forcing her to take a step back, as all and any words were lost in her throat as they were halted by the surprise and elation growing in her chest. Sitting on the closest chair on the right by the dining room table, was Sazh. The man was nursing a bundle in his arms, as Dajh hovered near the chair legs. Fang was unsure how to react, she couldn't speak, her feet glued her to the spot. Her hand raised itself to cover her agape mouth as tears welled up in the corner of her eyes. She wanted to say she was happy, but she knew the word wasn't good enough for the joy that was overwhelming her. Somewhere inside, the shock led her to belief it wasn't him, that she was seeing things, dreaming even. But when the man noticed and looked her way, she knew, looking into his familiar features, that this was really happening.

"Sazh!" She screamed, finally finding her voice. She pushed past Cid and burst into the room, pulling the older man into a harsh hug. "It's really you isn't it!?" She knew it was, but she wanted to hear it too.

The man tried to laugh as he shook off her strong hold. "Hey, little softer next time, you might wake her up."

Fang loosened her grip on him as she realised what the little bundle he was holding was. She smiled warmly, wanting to cry again, looking at the face of a little baby girl, whose skin was just like her mothers, a deep honey colour. With little streaks of jet black hair covering her tiny head.

She wiped the corners of her eyes and breathed. "Annette had her baby eh? Is it a girl?"

"Hmm. She's small for her age. It was a harsh pregnancy after all."

She nodded, and she moved past Dajh and took the seat to Sazh's right, just as the kid took the one to her right. "I heard the house was attacked, were you okay? How did you get out?" Concern rang in her voice.

Sazh smiled at the worry. "It was, it was sheer luck we got out okay though. I know others weren't that lucky."

"And Annette, what about Annette, she's okay isn't she?" The concern rose. She wasn't here, she needed to know if something happened. She feared the worst but wanted it to be a lie. She was a wonderfully kind woman who'd suffered so long in her life. Only after having such a loving family did she receive kindness, to loose it all so fast, was something Fang didn't dare believe in.

Sazh's head lowered, and Fang knew, she just knew. Tears started to well up again, but Sazh wiped them away. "Don't cry please. It wasn't the attack. As I said, it was a harsh pregnancy, we all knew what could happen, but none of us wanted to believe in it. Labour was hell on her, and in the end, it took her. She gave birth after a troublesome labour, but afterwards she was very weak. She slept for a while, and talked for a while too. She got to hold our little girl and we got to say our goodbyes, but we knew her time was limited. You could see it in her eyes, as they faded away little by little. She didn't make it through the night, she was gone a little before the sun rose."

In spite of Sazh's hope for her not to cry, she couldn't help herself. She'd hoped she'd get to see them all again, she was wishing for it daily. She didn't care how they got up here, she just wanted to see them all once more. But now that'd be impossible, because Sazh's wife was already gone. She tried to hold back, but in seconds of hearing the news the tears were rolling down her cheeks. She lowered her head onto the table and tried to hide her tears by wrapping her arms around her and letting her hair hang down, but she was loud enough that it wasn't like that had any use. She knew that Jane and Cid had not followed her inside. She knew and expected Jane and her brother Ben to speak with Sazh latter, given they knew him too as Sazh had been very well liked. But for now it seems that she was allowed to have her reunion in peace. No one was there to see her cry, besides Sazh himself, and his little son Dajh, who was patting her on the shoulder, not knowing what was to be done.

Sazh would prefer her happy than sad, but knowing how the new must have made her feel, he let her have her cry.

After a few minutes of crying, another sound was heard, though not unlike the sound Fang was making. Curiously, she lifted her head ever so slightly, to see she'd woken up the baby, who was bawling almost as loud as she had, her little arms swinging about, upset, but unsure how to convey what she wanted.

She tried to smile. She was sad yes, but the little girl just made her want to smile, and she didn't even understand why. She sniffed and wiped away her tears as she attempted to ask the question she was yet to ask. "Hey, Sazh, what's her name?"

The man smiled back at her, and as he rocked the girl who'd woken early from her sleep to try to calm her down, he answered.

"Vanille."

"Vanille eh?" She let the word pass her lips. At the same time, it made her want to cry harder, but also made her want to laugh and smile, and be happy again.

"A cute name for a cute child. Annette thought it was perfect, how could I say no?"

Fang lifted up her arm to stroke the little girl's tiny cheek. In response Vanille pouted, uncomfortable. The Pulsian woman chuckled a little at the reaction. "She is cute."

"Do you want to hold her?" Sazh offered, grinning.

"Ah, really? You don't think I'll drop her?"

"Don't think like that, besides I trust you. You're sitting at a table anyway, she doesn't even have anywhere to fall." He laughed at her reaction.

She mused it over, before deciding finally there wasn't any problem, it shouldn't be too difficult. "…Sure."

She held out her arms as Sazh lowered the little girl into her outstretched arms which carefully enclosed around her. A warm feeling lit up as she watched Vanille's tiny features looked up at her, her soft brown eyes slowly blinking, mouth open wide, not understanding. She wiggled in her grasp, which was something Fang hadn't expected, but quickly adjusted to. She was a living being, moving was something they did after all. It was a strange feeling, being able to hold a human being in her arms, a very peculiar sense of joy. But even as seconds ticked on by, she was beginning to understand the term 'bundle of joy' a lot better than she ever had before.

As a tiny smile formed on Fang's features, Sazh could do little but help smile himself.

"Hey, Sazh?" She piped up, her voice quiet as she asked him a question.

"Hmm?"

"How did you get up here exactly?" The thought had been weighing on her mind, but she'd been too focused on other things to ask it.

Worry surged through as almost in an instant, the joy faded from Sazh's face and he looked away. The world grew deadly silent around them.

"So we get to this." He mused.

"Sazh?" She frowned, knowing something in someway was wrong.

He sighed, and it almost seemed like he wouldn't answer, but after considering it for some time further, he decided it was only right to tell her the news.

"After the house was attacked, we got out and wandered for awhile. I had every intention to come here, but had no idea how. It was about that time that I ran into a woman about your age. She looked like a total mess must confess. As it turned out her house had been attacked. But that wasn't why she'd ran away. We'd talked for awhile, and I learnt a lot from her. I took it the soldiers had already left long before she'd ran off too. She wasn't running from them, but from another man who'd survived the attack on the plantation. He wanted to propose to her I know, but she was dead against it. That she hated him was clear, and I could hardly blame her, that he was cruel, was also clear."

"Where is this going exactly?" Fang questioned, both concerned and most certainly confused. But Sazh ignored the comment and continued.

"He found her, and tried to take her back while trying to convince her to say yes. He was losing the battle, she was much like you, strong. Whether she truly believed that or not I can't say, people don't usually see the good in themselves. He soon realised he'd get nowhere with things going as they were, he needed to take things higher, or nothing would happen at all. So he pointed his gun at Dajh, and told her he'd shoot if she said no one more time."

An audible gasp came from Fang as he said this. Dajh was right by her side, it was clear what must have happened. Sazh continued on.

"I told her she didn't need to worry about strangers like us, but she refused. She knew the man was serious, so she said the last thing she'd ever wanted to say, and said yes. Even though I'd only just met her, I knew what she was getting herself into, I knew she was selling her soul to the devil, and all for the sake of a stranger." He paused in reflection of the incident. Even now he was emotional over it. "Her husband wanted to move nearby, so she saw it as only right after putting us through that that she take us up here, so that she could grant what I wished, to see you again."

Fang didn't know what to say, it was selfless, that someone would do that for someone, and for a slave also. She respected her in that aspect.

She asked the only thing she could think of. "Who was she?"

"Well, to be honest, she may have introduced herself to me as Lightning. Obviously, given she was a rich Cocoonian heritage girl, I couldn't imagine that being her actual name. As I learnt off her later, and from others around her, her name was Claire."

Fang eyes opened wide, as the familiarity of that name hit her, as the remembrance of a meeting earlier today came to mind at the same time.

"I think you would have heard of her, she was the Farron couple's older daughter, you know, those girls with the bizarre hair. I'm pretty sure she was the one nobody liked. I really don't see what they were seeing though. For someone to commit such a brave and selfless act, how can they be horrible?"

Fang shook her head, not wanting to think. She's seen her today and everything, she'd never thought it'd been such a forced situation, that'd she'd do something so kind, for someone she'd never met before. She didn't want to think. She shook her head viciously, as if that'd get it out, but it didn't. not knowing what else to do, she tried to change the subject.

"You…you know. I can get Vanille out of that place. I know how, the paperwork's all done…" Her voice shook, she was being overcome. "All I have to do…" she grew quieter, "All I have to do…is go there, and get her out…" She sob rang in her throat. She couldn't continue anymore. She knew the news must have made Sazh happy, but she couldn't continue, she couldn't think. Tears swelled up and blinded her, so she couldn't even see either.

"Cid was right, this is a day for surprises." She forced out, her voice barely there.

It was at that moment, that everything she'd learnt today finally hit her, and she could do nothing but let it all out, and cry. Knowing, Sazh wrapped his arms around her and let her cry into his chest, letting her have as much time as she needed to calm down. She wasn't sure how to think, or react, to any of it.

She didn't know how to feel. She was happy, she'd gotten to see Sazh and Dajh again, and even little Vanille. But she was sad, because she'd never see beautiful Annette again. She was happy that the baby was healthy, but she'd never know her mother. She was happy she'd made new connections today, and had reunited with a lost one. She was happy, that someone could be so kind to Sazh and his familiy, but she was upset equally so. Someone had given themselves up, their everything. They'd sacrificed themselves for a stranger, and had a stranger cry for them in turn.

* * *

><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed. I hope the next update can be done faster than this, but I don't want to make promises and get your hopes up, but I'll still hope I'll find the time to write.<strong>

**I'm really interested in drawing a picture related to this story (and also another for DL), but I've no idea what to do. Does anyone have any requests? It'll be uploaded to my deviantart account. I'm yet to decide whether to make it digital or traditional as of yet. I'm curious what you guys will come up with. I'm at a loss for ideas. **

**I'm just going to be a nice little sister here and recommend 'Seeker of the Skies' stories. She's a reeaaally good writer, much better than me. And her stories are so creative, but she has very little fans and deserves more. She's one of the better writers I've seen on this site. She has two FFXIII stories, one fantasy, and another very dark (be warned) but both are positively fantastic. She also has a creative little KH story that I absolutely love, it's my favourite from her. If you're curious just look her up, it's worth the read I promise. **

**Jya ne,**

**~Serah Villiers Valentine**


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